Offerings & Takings
by Tidia
Summary: Brotherhood AU. Takes place after Ridley's To The Victor. Sides have been drawn and each side wants the witches with them. Caleb, Dean and Sam get drawn into a situation filled with risk.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Offerings and Takings

Title: Offerings and Takings

By: Tidia

Beta: Household Six

Disclaimer: I surely do not own Supernatural, and Ridley C. James created the Brotherhood universe

Notes: This is the follow up of To The Victor Go The Spoils. You can go to our website at the hunterstomb to see how it fits in. Also Tara has a new video up! Thank you to my wonderful beta, Household Six for numerous revisions and finding of plot holes. Of course to Ridley who fed into this story and kept me going. Thank you to Sams1ra who sent me an idea way back when I twisted it and worked it in. I truly appreciate it. Always special thanks to those who read, review and put me on alerts. I am always in awe.

Part 1

Caleb tried to move out of the devil's trap, but movement brought a stinging pain. He stayed still, rolled his neck, first one way and then another. He saw clearly, the colors of the room vivid, his senses all working. He was alive for the first time in his life. He took in a deep breath that when released, the exhale vibrated. He chuckled. "This feels good."

"Caleb?"

"Mmm?" He looked at Jessup, who was casually holding an iron sword. At the older man's feet there was a thick line of salt.

"You remember why you're doing this? There's a life at stake — the life of Dean Winchester."

"Deusssssss." Caleb narrowed his eyes, made fists, held his body taut, exerting control while stimulating his flight or fight response. "It's. . .me. I got it. How long?"

"Five minutes. You only gained full control just now."

"Okay, I wanta go for the record and stay for ten more." He placed his hand on the glowing amulet which hung from a chain around his neck.

Jessup nodded. The blade hadn't moved, still in its defensive position. "Do you wish to continue the conversation?"

"Did anyone ever tell you that you are difficult to talk to?" Caleb asked, twitching his nose as he felt the demon try to exert itself.

"I listen."

"You do that." Caleb felt a stab of anger directed at Jessup's secretiveness. He squelched it, reasserting himself. "You then say, like, three words and the situation makes sense."

One of Jessup's eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"Yep, but it makes you cool for an old guy." Caleb laughed. Dean compared Jessup to a Mr. Spock who happened to look like Sam Elliot, which added to his coolness level. He continued to chortle, but it was sounding slightly hysterical. He sustained a long rumbling exhale from his diaphragm. "And insults don't affect you."

Reaves stepped to the right and then to the left, keeping a manic tempo of back and forth.

"I thought it was a compliment?"

Caleb focused on Jessup once more. "Yeah, it was. You're right."

"Nine minutes."

According to Caleb's calculation it would take a minute to rid himself of the demon. The thought appeared just before his body physically reacted. The fine black mist exited his mouth with a roar, dissipating up, hitting the ceiling until it redirected itself through the open window.

Jessup relaxed the sword and placed it on its wall mounting next to the others. He crossed the devil's trap to where Caleb was on his knees in the center of the wood floor. Jessup hooked an arm underneath him, assisting him past the boundaries of the devil's trap to the nearby chair.

Caleb relaxed his head back, looking up at the ceiling. He was doing his best to tolerate the situation for Dean's sake. At least the houseboat stayed moored at the dock in a serene lake. It was nothing like being near the agitated ocean. The houseboat was always restful. After this, though, he planned a trip to the middle of the United States to the most landlocked country he could find.

Jessup's place was sparse. The old man lived plainly with his shelves of books on different subjects and a freezer in the back filled with alligator meat. There were no personal pictures.

Jessup had been Jim's friend, although no one really knew how that had come to be. Jim had told them stories, but Jessup himself had never elaborated. It was only as a favor to the pastor that the man accepted a few pupils for swordsman training. As far as Caleb knew, the most recent pupils had been him and Dean. After meeting Jessup, he kept in touch with the eccentric older man. Both Dean and Caleb had enjoyed the training. Sam had refused; John lasted a week before dismissing the sword training. Considering how seriously John took weapons training, that was saying a lot.

It was probably the questions about dinner that led to almost finding the meaning of life which John had found annoying. It could have also been the fact Jessup remained calm while the other party grew red faced. Johnny hadn't exactly been known for his Zen-like personality.

Calmness permeated Jessup's entirety. He had long gray hair kept back in a ponytail. He looked ageless.

Caleb bent his knees, bringing his bare feet onto the chair. Jessup's requirement was all shoes were left at the door; he wanted the negative energy from outside left there. But Caleb was dragging in all sorts of evil with him and the amulet. He researched the amulet, finding all the references to it and things similar to it. It took a few months, but his search led to a large warning label: use at the risk of your soul. It would take time to master, if ever. There was also the possibility that it could master him. When they started he warned Jessup, giving strict instructions to use one of the deadly blades against him if need be. Jessup had accepted the directions and could be trusted to follow through with them. "This is slow going. I don't know how much time I'm going to need. Probably at least an hour. What do you think?"

"Time is relative," Jessup answered as he mopped the floor, removing the devil's trap.

Caleb shook his head. Jessup always had simple answers. "That's what I mean—three words."

"Drink your tea."

"Another three words." A cup was on the shelf next to the chair. It was tepid, smelling horrible. Another of Jessup's quirks was Chinese teas formulated to improve the circulatory system, the mind, or the immune system. All were an acquired taste, one Caleb didn't share.

"Caleb, I promised to help you."

"I appreciate it." Reaves took a sip with a wince at the sour taste.

"You appreciate that I am on the fringes of The Brotherhood universe," Jessup responded, continuing to mop. Jessup wasn't a member of The Brotherhood. He didn't have to provide any assistance to Caleb. He did it out of respect of their relationship as teacher and student. "My loyalty is to you. This is, however, against my better judgment."

"I'm sorry for placing you in this situation."

"If this feels like the right direction to you, we will pursue it."

Caleb searched for the hidden meaning in the words. "You're saying I should keep my options open." Then he thought of another connotation. "Or that ten minutes may be enough."

"A clear mind tempers the heart, brings purpose to each action. . ."

"Strengthens the will," Caleb completed Jessup's favorite saying. It wasn't about destiny or fate with Jessup. It was about committing to a choice. Funny, Jim believed in choices, too.

Jessup never smiled. The corners of the mouth would hint upwards, which they had done when Caleb completed the mantra. It was the closest to a "well done" that his students could hope for. "Your cell phone rang."

"Damn it." No one knew where he had gone to see Jessup. He pushed himself up and went to the kitchen. He opened the phone to see the name on the caller ID before he brought the phone back to the main room again. Caleb waved the phone in the air. "Mac."

"They aren't necessary."

Caleb gave the unflappable man a skeptical look. "Oh, yes, they are — along with a TV, DVR, and MP3."

"You realize I have no idea what you're talking about." Jessup squeezed the mop.

"You just avoid people."

"But somehow they always find me." Jessup left the room, bucket and mop in tow.

Caleb had been out of touch for four days, attempting to possess demons. His hope was that if he could possess one, he would be able to help Dean out of his predicament. He could possess the demon that came for Dean. Four days had given him a good start. He had seven more months to get it right. For Dean, he would get it right.

Seeing the amulet his own great-grandfather had used, Caleb knew it was a sign, an opportunity to right a wrong, so he stole it from the farm. He knew he would be forgiven once his plan came to fruition. He could use the amulet, which had called up the Yellow-Eyed Demon, to save Dean by controlling demons, working up the ladder - lesser ones to the one who would set Dean free. He came to Jessup, showed him how to draw a devil's trap, and through trial and error had made progress.

Caleb pressed the send button and called Mac. His father answered immediately. "Hey, Dad, sorry I missed your call."

_"Where are you, son?"_

"Doing some research in Florida." Caleb didn't explain further. Things had been tense with his father. Mac had known about Dean's deal and failed to disclose it to him. Not telling Mac what he was doing was fair play. Maybe it was petty, but he knew what he was doing was dangerous for himself, both spiritually and physically. For Dean's life, it was worth the risk. He didn't want Mac telling him different.

_"Good. You're close by."_

"Close by to what?"

_"Casadega, Florida. There's a witch named Agatha Hennings. You need to bring her to Washington D.C. for a meeting with myself and others. It's very important she safely makes it to her destination. I will tell her to expect you tomorrow at lunchtime and text you her address. " _

Caleb rolled his eyes. He had more important matters. "Bodyguard, Dad? You've got to be kidding me?"

_"We're in a war, son. We have to make sure Griffin doesn't get to her. If we gain Agatha's allegiance, we will have most of the covens behind us."_

"Witches? Why not have Josh and his mom take care of it?"

_"Esme passed along the information, but her family are considered outsiders, frowned upon by the covens. This needs to come from us."_

"So Aggie is just going to come quietly with me and make everything better? Can't I just stick her on a plane?"

_"She's afraid of flying." _Mac cleared his throat._ "She requested you because of your position in The Brotherhood — a position which sometimes requires you to be an escort."_

"She's a snob." Caleb wondered if John had ever done escort duty. On the other hand, John had not been a typical Knight so it was difficult to use him as a reference point, especially where playing Kevin Costner was involved. At yet another reminder that his job didn't come with a guidebook of any kind anymore, he sighed, "When's the meeting?"

_"In three days at the Ritz Carlton. Caleb, be careful. Griffin does not want this meeting to take place. He has already established contact with Agatha and possibly made some sort of arrangement with her. According to Esme, she's very powerful. Don't underestimate her." _

"I'll be careful, like I always am." Caleb looked down at the burn marks on the palms of his hands. "I'll see you then, Dad. Take care."

He rubbed a hand down his face as he entered the kitchen to find Jessup with a cup of tea. The older man pulled another tea cup from its rack, filling it with the golden brew from the cast-iron pot.

"If you didn't know me, could you tell I was up to something?"

"I am not a mirror."

There was a mirror above the stove. Jessup mentioned something about feng shui. Caleb was surprised at his haggard appearance. "I look rough. But is it a good rough or a bad rough?"

"Rough is apt." Jessup finished his tea, rinsing the cup in the sink.

It was not an answer; the underlying meaning was he looked like shit. He raked a hand through his hair. His father would notice a problem. Dean didn't have time for Mac to notice a problem.

"Drink some more tea."

"Will it help?" He peered inside the cup, decided he was still thirsty.

"Perhaps."

He finished in one gulp. Caleb looked at the remnants of the tea. He was so tired. He glanced over the rim of his cup at Spock to find the man quietly watching him back, his expression the same unreadable calm as always. Caleb smirked. The tea was probably a sleep aid. "I'm going to bed."

((((((((((((((((((((((((((()))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Caleb sipped the coffee in his travel mug. Jessup had sent him off with some tea. As soon as he found a Dunkin Donuts, he exchanged it for a regular coffee. The caffeine rush didn't help to quell his thoughts. Time away from helping Dean was lost.

Mackland was trying to keep them _all_ safe, but a year would go by too soon.

The drive to Casadega was boring highway. He found the former campgrounds easy enough. There were signs in front of some of the small homes advertising psychic services. Caleb snorted. He passed by the dirt road leading to Agatha's home, backed up the truck, and pulled into the drive. They would be taking the truck. Caleb felt comfortable in the vehicle; a rental was not an option.

It was a plain blue house, one level ranch style. Caleb guessed two bedrooms, one bath, enough for one person. He parked in the driveway, looked around from his perch inside the truck before alighting the vehicle. Mac had arranged for him to use the side door near the driveway. The backyard was fenced in with vines covering the metal stretching to the overhang over the door.

He rang the doorbell, waiting to hear footsteps. Caleb attempted a reading but could sense he was being blocked. It made him feel slightly uneasy. By design, his experience with witches was limited to mostly Joshua. Sawyer was guarded but could never block Caleb out.

A tall woman opened the door wearing a tank top, a loose fitting jacket and wide leg pants, all in gray. Her hair was obviously colored a rich sable color and styled off her face. She studied him. "Caleb Reaves?"

"My father said you would be expecting me, Ms. Hennings." He extended his hand in a formal greeting. He had to admit, he had expected a weathered elderly woman wearing a black ensemble with a cat in tow. Her face had limited lines — either plastic surgery was involved or she was brewing herself up some incredible face cream.

She opened the door, gestured for him to follow her.

He looked around, slightly surprised. Although Casadega itself seemed like a forgotten town, the interior of the house was well maintained. There was a balance between modern aesthetics and antique furnishings. There was a direct contrast of light and dark. "I'd like to look around before we go, make sure we're not leaving any clues."

She nodded. "I'll just go freshen up. My bags are by the door." She left him in the hallway while she entered her bedroom, leaving the door open. She had jewelry on the bureau from which she placed black pearls on her earlobes, then took a longer strand around her neck with a smile.

Caleb went through the rooms, finding nothing of interest. He wondered where she did her witchcraft, not noticing any large cauldron. He opened the pantry door in the kitchen, found herbs amongst the condiments. He didn't look too closely, too afraid to find frog eyes and cow hearts.

Agatha was waiting by her bags. He was lucky there were only a small travel bag and a train case, but he still was not used to playing the bellboy. She exited first, stopping at the truck. She didn't reach up to open the door. He tucked the bags under one arm, opening the door for her while tucking the bags in the back. Caleb walked over to the driver's side of the truck. This was going to be a long trip with Cruella DeVille.

She gave what Caleb recognized as the Manhattan Once Over to the truck, making a determination of Caleb's social standing. She paused on the cross hanging from the rearview mirror then flicked her eyes away.

Caleb sent a silent plea to Pastor Jim to give him patience. He remained quiet until they reached Route 95. "So, Agatha, you're having a pow wow?"

"Ms. Hennings, please." Agatha's hands were folded in her lap, distinguishing them as the one part of her body which gave away her age. The blue veins were lifted, her joints enlarged due to arthritis. "Your father arranged a meeting with each of the covens sending a representative."

Caleb noticed it was a closed answer, but eighteen hours of driving in silence was unnerving when there was an occupant in the car. "How many covens are there?"

"A dozen. But I represent the most powerful coven. What we decide, so do the others."

"As long as you're keeping an open mind." Caleb shook his head.

Agatha sat rigidly in the passenger side seat. "It will be difficult to surpass the other offer, but there may be other enticements."

"We're talking about Griffin Porter's offer, right? The man who's trying to stop you from going to the meeting?"

"That has nothing to do with me and more to do with Mackland Ames." She looked at Caleb, giving him a small smile. "Griffin Porter is quite a man. We understand each other." She gave him a slight nod, like she was paying him a compliment. "I hear the same thing about your father, though he's tenderhearted."

There was an underlying insinuation, a salacious one. He wanted Agatha to understand his father was off limits. "My father's with Esme Madrigal."

"Jocelyn's daughter. A non-entity really. Her mother had talent. I hope she's staying in her little shop as I requested. She has no business being at the meeting. "

His feelings about his father's relationship with the woman aside, Caleb wanted to instigate a cat fight, betting on Esme. She was younger, but Agatha seemed the type to win at all costs. "You know Esme's mother, so you've been a witch for a long, long time."

Agatha's eyes blazed at the suggestion of her age. "We witches outlast hunters."

"Must have a better health insurance plan." Caleb focused on the road, thinking of ways he could conveniently lose Agatha, avoiding escorting her any further. However, Mac would be upset.

They were closing in on lunchtime. Had she been nicer, he would have picked a better restaurant. McDonald's seemed fitting. She wrinkled her nose as they stopped under what Caleb suddenly thought were positively awe-inspiring golden arches.

"I think it's better to move around. Old bones do get stiff," Caleb commented. Agatha didn't answer. He expected her to climb down from the truck, but instead he had to go over to her side and open the door.

Agatha was exerting control. Of course she was.

They ate quietly, or rather, Caleb ate while Agatha picked contemptuously at a salad with no dressing. They returned to the truck wordlessly. He wanted to get a few more hours before stopping again for the night and finishing the trip up tomorrow.

Once settled in, she vigorously cleaned her hands with antibacterial lotion, offering none to Caleb. Then she pulled out a glass jar, scooping out some of the orange cream and rubbing it on her hands. Caleb gagged on the smell, opening the window to allow some fresh air into the air conditioned cab.

They made it to North Carolina just shy of eight hours. Caleb found a Hilton Garden Inn off the highway and deemed it a fair place to stay for the night. If it had been just him, he would have stayed in Charlotte, but he wanted to exert some control, too.

Again, Agatha waited in the truck. Caleb opened the door and offered his hand. She gripped it, not a grip of fear that she was going to fall but one of biting maliciousness. He felt the creaminess of her hand still lingering from her application hours ago and wiped his hand on his jeans as soon as it was free. Agatha walked ahead, leaving Caleb to grab her bags. She was waiting for him at the front desk.

"I need two rooms, adjoining, one for myself and the other for my grandmother." Caleb smiled as Agatha's nostrils flared.

Caleb took some basic measures to secure the room before allowing Agatha to enter. He opened the in-room door to his room. He opened his duffle, pulling out a two inch crystal pin. "I'd like you to have this."

"This?" She held it between two fingers.

"It's not a fashion statement. It has a tracking device in case something happens and we get separated. "

"It makes your job easier." She still held it away from her.

"Yes," Caleb sighed. She didn't want his job to be easier. "Please, put it on."

Agatha fastened it to the lapel of her jacket with disdain, flattening the lapel repeatedly.

Caleb's phone buzzed against his hip. He glanced down to the clipped phone, seeing the name flash on the screen. He slid it out of the case. "I need to take this call."

She gestured for him to leave. "Proceed. And I'll have steamed vegetables and baked chicken."

"I'll be right on it," Caleb answered, clutching the phone to keep from saying something he knew his father would regret him saying. He had to go one more day without killing Agatha Hennings and a lifetime to hope he would never see her again.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Offerings & Takings

Title: Offerings & Takings

By: Tidia

Disclaimer: See Part 1

Beta: Household Six

Author's note: On the time line this has not caught up to the show as of yet—so keep that in mind when you read it. Thank you for the reviews- they are appreciated and loved. Much thanks to my friends that I have made here and others I have known for a long time. Shout out to Ridley and our funny conversations that we can not have while I am in Target.

Part 2

Dean didn't leave a message as he was sent to Caleb's voicemail. His number would show up as a missed call anyway. That was good enough. He and Sam had promised to keep in touch, call every few days. The three of them were supposed to set up a hunt together, but with two hundred demons out there, they were stretched thin.

In the meantime, Dean had noticed their conversations were becoming distant, a byproduct of Gideon's death and his deal. He didn't know if the separation was a good idea, worrying that it might actually be making it easier for him to die at the end of the year.

On the other hand, when Sam talked to Caleb, they seemed to be getting closer. It was probably the common goal: to keep him out of Hell.

Dean set the phone down between him and Sam.

"He didn't answer?" Sam asked from the passenger seat of the Impala.

Dean shrugged his shoulders. "Must be busy."

"Look, man, you've got to give him some time."

Dean ignored his brother. Time was something he didn't have. He couldn't change his decision and had nothing left to give. He was trying to do what was best for his brother; The Brotherhood came second. They could find another Guardian, one better for the job. "Tick tock," he said as his phone rang. It was Caleb.

"_What?_" Reaves said in lieu of a greeting.

"You said you wanted to keep in touch, Damien," Dean frowned, but answered in an unaffected tone. "I'm keeping in touch."

A distinctive sigh weighted the phone connection, followed by Caleb's growling reply. "_So that you can lie to me?_"

Dean reached over, slapping his brother's arm so he would pay attention to the conversation. "Lie? What are you talking about?"

"_That slut, Bela Talbot, and then I find out you two are hanging out with a demon?_"

"Bela keeps sniffing around us." Dean mouthed 'Bobby.' The older hunter had informed the Winchesters he was not going to be their secret keeper.

"_She's bad news, and the demon's not a good idea either. Next thing I hear, you'll be her bitch._"

"I'm no one's bitch. Talk to Sammy about that." Dean hadn't met Ruby, but he'd heard enough about her that he didn't want to get to know her better. A dead demon was the best demon of all.

"_Gladly. Pass the phone over._"

Dean raised his eyebrows. "He wants to talk to you."

Sam sat up straighter, accepting the cell phone. "Hey, Caleb. Yes. I know. But. Right. And I can. Yes." Sam was struggling to interject. He glanced at Dean. "The same goes for you. Okay. Bye." Sam flopped the phone back into Dean's hand, and then slumped in the passenger seat again, looking defeated.

"Looks like you told him," Dean commented and received a lovely hand gesture from Sam for his concern.

"_Hell, kill both of them if you can._ _You'd be doing the world a favor. Hold on a minute._"

Dean heard the sound of the phone being muffled.

"_Back._"

"What's the matter with you, Damien?" Caleb seemed edgier on the phone. Hunters were a violent group, but it was unlike Caleb to make a killing an outright recommendation. "Don't get me wrong — it's nice to know you aren't going soft, but you seem off."

Caleb cleared his throat. "_Nothing. Just been busy, and now I'm stuck babysitting the biggest bitch._"

It seemed to Dean an attempt to hide what was bothering him. Another person keeping secrets, as if they didn't have enough of that going around. Dean wouldn't push, though; it wasn't like he had been a paragon of truth-telling lately either. "Do tell. Is she hot?"

Reaves snorted. "_Aggie's cold hearted. I have to escort the old hag to the big witch summit that Mac arranged._"

She didn't sound like someone Dean wanted to meet, not that it mattered what he wanted. It was typical. He hadn't heard about a meeting. Mac was in charge after all; Dean didn't want the responsibility. However, he was still worried — witches weren't to be trusted. "With the heads of all the families? Right, 'cause that's a brilliant plan. You know how that turned out in _The Godfather_. I thought you were going to get Mac a copy? Should be required viewing in The Brotherhood."

"_Maybe for Christmas._"

"You better stick around in case someone uses the opportunity to take everyone out." Dean thought of a better suggestion. "You wanna meet up? Three sets of eyes watching over those witches? Make sure Mac gets out of there alive?" It sounded flip, but at the same time, it worried Dean how real the possibilities sounded.

"_Sounds good. We're meeting at the Ritz Carlton in D.C._"

"The Ritz in D.C.? I think we can make it." Dean hit his brother's leg then gave the thumbs up sign. He loved staying at the swanky places.

"You sure it's a good idea for us to go to D.C.?" Sam added.

His brother could be a killjoy. Dean was not going to be deterred. "Sammy, haven't you heard about hiding in plain sight?"

"_Maybe Sam has a point . . . _"

Dean cut off Caleb's reply. Since Vegas, he had wanted more opportunities to have fun together. This was perfect timing. "Can we wear those earpieces? We'll be like Mac's secret service." He grinned at his brother. Sam was shaking his head. "Do we get to stay at The Ritz? Sammy wants to know. Since Vegas, he's become a snob over our usual motels."

"Shut up," Sam retorted.

Caleb laughed. He knew them so well, he was probably envisioning the conversation. "_I'll spring for a suite._"

Dean knew Sam would be momentarily indignant but then acquiesce once, when put in the situation, he actually had fun. It was Sammy's way. "Sweet."

Reaves sighed again. "_I have to go bring her highness dinner. I'll see you in D.C._"

"Take care." Dean was still worried. However, they seemed to reach an accord, and he didn't want the temporary angst truce to break.

Dean slipped the phone in his pocket. Sam was staring out the window as they drove, now with a destination in mind. "What'd he say to you?"

"You know Caleb," Sam replied with a noncommittal shrug.

Dean did know Caleb and his brother. They were hatching a plan to save him from Hell. He appreciated it but didn't want to risk putting Sam in jeopardy. He wanted his brother to stay alive. Otherwise, what was the point? "And I know you. Sam, if you two are up to something dangerous — "

Sam interrupted with a pointedly sharp look. "Dean, we're gonna do what it takes. Live with it."

He was trying. At first it had been freeing, but as time was running out and with so much trouble before them, he wanted to stay to fight along Sam and Caleb. To live alongside Sam and Caleb.

Sam had a point. An Impala in D.C. in her condition would be noticeable. He should call them back. They could still come into D.C. but leave it in storage and rent a car. Caleb, Mac, and the other hunters connected to the Winchesters had been fortunate. Carolyn, a member of The Scholar's Geek Squad, made sure their names remained out of any investigation. It gave them complete freedom of movement. There were, however, precautions taken when they met up with the Winchester brothers.

Caleb squared his shoulders, holding the tray of food the hotel had made to his specific instructions. He wished he could have convinced them to add a sprinkle of cyanide to Agatha's meal. To think, they'd thought he was joking.

He came up on her door, pausing for a moment as he sensed more than one person in the room. He put the food down, pulling his gun from the well-hidden ankle holster. There were two men in the room with Agatha.

He went to his room, quietly entering. He crept across the carpeted hotel room floor to the adjoining door. They weren't talking, which meant they were waiting for him.

Caleb attempted to use his psychic abilities but was immediately blocked. He didn't know if it was Agatha's block extending past her or if Griffin had taught them a skill. His finger put pressure on the trigger, and he revealed himself.

"I think you boys better g-g-go."

The two large men didn't answer. One of them held a taser, firing as soon as Caleb entered, making him stutter his words. Reaves stumbled to his knees, trying to make sense of the electricity coursing through his body until numbness and loss of control over his body set in.

He was stunned. He heard the footsteps and the door slamming, but still he remained on the floor. It took him a half an hour to get on his hands and knees. Caleb sat on his haunches, taking deep breaths to rid himself of the tingling sensation. Finally he was able to move to the bed. It took a moment to reorient himself, but once his head cleared a bit, he looked around the room. There was no evidence of a struggle, but Agatha was old, even though she failed to admit it. She would be on the losing end of an altercation.

Caleb reminded himself of the tracking device. He pulled out his phone, scrolled to Alison. He had to leave her a voicemail when she didn't answer. Caleb was somewhat glad since it gave him more time to recover. He wondered how long the pins and needles sensation in his fingers would last. She called back fairly quickly.

_"You called?" _

He pushed back his sleeves, rubbing his wrists and fingers. The prickling was irritating the scabbing burn marks left by the demon possession. Yeah, when this was done, he wanted some downtime in his home in New York City. "I need you to use that tracking device."

_"You lost her?"_ Alison said in disbelief.

Caleb bristled at the incorrect terminology. "She was taken."

_"Caleb, this is an important meeting. Your father's worked hard to arrange everything. . . ." _

He didn't want her chastising him. Every time he called The Geek Squad, he got a lecture instead of them answering his request. He was The Knight-To-Be, a respected position. He wondered how John had dealt with them or even if he had utilized them. John Winchester had kept his circle of trust very small. At the moment, it was starting to feel like a good plan to him, too. "I know, Alison. Just give me the information."

There were five minutes of silence before her reply. _"She is moving north."_

Reaves frowned, expecting Alison to elaborate. "Anything else?"

_"Lose the attitude. This isn't NASA, Caleb. It's a hybrid of a GPS system. It'll take me some time."_

"Call me back." He rubbed a hand over his head in frustration, making his headache worse. He lay back on the bed, hearing his pounding heart as it pulsed in his ears. He propped the phone against his ear to make his next phone call.

_"Dude, the way you keep calling me, people are gonna talk," _Dean said as he answered the phone.

Caleb smirked, not replying even though he initiated the phone call. He didn't know how they had come this far in their respective roles for it to end with Dean going to Hell. Maybe it was his D'Artagnan complex, but he had to believe good or some facsimile of good was going to win. But as time ticked by, he became more frustrated with Dean and the situation.

_"Damien, you with me? What the hell happened?"_

Caleb sat up. "I gotta get the bitch back."

Sam walked in behind Dean, searching out the cafeteria diner off the highway where they had decided to meet Caleb. They had shared driving duties so that one man could nap for a spell. Sam stifled a yawn as he looked for Caleb.

Dean found him first, corner booth with a view of the door and an exit behind him. Dean remained standing; Sam slid into the booth. Dean put out his hand in greeting.

Sam noticed Caleb was hesitant for a moment before he grabbed Dean's forearm. "I just got here myself."

Dean nodded. "We gave up a night at the Civil Motel." He gestured to the line of people placing their orders. "I need a cup of coffee. Hell, we all need one. Wait here and I'll place the order."

Sam studied the older man while he was too busy to notice since he was watching Dean. "You look rough."

"Lack of sleep," Caleb said, diverting his attention to Sam.

Reaves's face was filled with shadows and angles. There was much more weighing him than sleepless nights. "No, it isn't. What is going on with you?"

Caleb smiled. "Nothing, Sam. What's going on with you?"

Sam called Caleb on his blatant lie. Before the older hunter could stop him, he roughly grabbed Caleb's arm and pulled up the sleeve to reveal burn marks up and down his arm. "You know what I mean."

"Stay the hell outta my head." Reaves pulled his arm back, bringing the shirt over the marks. "I'm just embracing my inner demon, like what Rose said. I've decided to stop fighting who I am and use it to my advantage — to Deuce's advantage."

"Yeah. It really looks like it's working for you."

"Maybe you should try it." He crossed his arms. "But I guess you already did. Blowing away the Crossroads Demon? Or how about all the time you're spending with that bitch, Ruby?"

Sam was taken aback by the venom in Caleb's voice, breaking the psychic link he had momentarily had with him. He had seen Caleb possessing a lesser demon just as Caleb had seen him killing the Crossroads Demon. Damn. They both should have been telling each other what was going on, but not like this. After Dean had told Caleb about his deal he had made for Sam's life, they had spoken, vowing to keep Dean safe in this world. But each wanted to be the hero, taking matters into their own hands without providing a united front. Instead, it was leading to more trouble. "Didn't change anything."

"You should have talked to me _first_. I thought we were working together."

"We are." Sam felt like he was ten years old, being scolded as if he was a child. "I just thought — "

"That's the problem," Caleb interjected.

"What the hell does that mean?" Sam frowned at Caleb's hostility. "Is your piss poor attitude some kind of side effect from what you've been doing? You need to stop."

"Or what? You'll tell The Scholar?"

"Even better — The Guardian. Don't you think Dean's going to notice?" The youngest Winchester was calculating. He wasn't about to allow Caleb to sacrifice his soul. There was too much of that going around him already.

"Just don't say anything." Caleb jutted his chin. "Three heart attacks on a plate? Mac will be proud."

Dean was behind him, maneuvering two trays of food. He gave them each a plate and a cup of coffee before sitting down next to Sam.

"So what've you got?" Dean asked as he ate a strip of bacon.

"They're in West Virginia, North Carolina border, in a town called Jameson."

"How do you know all that?" Sam asked in surprise.

Caleb winked, returning to what was almost normal as he toyed with his food. "I put a little tracker on her. It's called the mini-hunter."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Real original on the name. Where do we get these toys?"

"Alison. She'll hook you up."

"Think she'll let me watch?" Dean nudged Sam.

Sam pushed Dean back, disgusted by his poor joke.

"You wish," Caleb retorted with a laugh.

Sam cleared his throat. "How did we get into a conversation about sex?"

"I thought you learned when you were seventeen?" Caleb waved a piece of bacon at him. "Is it time for another visit to the Red Caboose?"

Dean shook his head. "God, I love that place."

For a moment Sam took in the scene. The joking and laughter tempered with the seriousness of the situation that was their usual course. He wished they could remain like this. However, they were fraying at the edges, their individual threads pulled in different directions. No one was mentioning arranging a trip to The Red Caboose, possibly Dean's last.

"So the plan is to go in and extract?" Dean sobered, focused on the hunt again.

Caleb gave a nod. "With the least amount of collateral damage."

They finished their meals, Caleb going to the truck with the plan to park it in a garage in Charlotte and then ride with the Winchesters the rest of the way.

Dean and Sam got into the Impala. Sam noticed Dean watch Caleb step into the truck and drive ahead of them.

"He's off," Sam stated the obvious in an understatement.

"Yeah, I noticed." Dean put the car in gear and followed the truck out of the diner's parking lot.

Sam waited for his brother to elaborate, became angry when there was no further reaction from Dean. "He's your best friend. Are you going to say anything?"

Dean glanced at his brother. "Ya know, Sam, in my old age I figured out something: it'll come out eventually."

Sam placed two fingers on the bridge of his nose, willing himself to calm down. "That's what you used to say about the blood stains on the laundry when I was twelve." Sam opened his mouth to say Dean was wrong, but then he would have to reveal he was harboring a secret, too. Sam had decided Dean was not ready to hear about their mother's possible connection to the Yellow-Eyed Demon. He couldn't ask Dean to press Caleb about his secret. He didn't know if Caleb has seen it in his mind. He was not about to ask.

"You were going to say something?" Dean's eyebrows rose.

"You're right." Sam looked out the passenger side window. "It'll come out . ." He dropped his head against the window, yawning for some more sleep. "Eventually."


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Offerings and Takings

Title: Offerings and Takings

By: Tidia

Beta: Household Six

Disclaimer: I surely do not own Supernatural, and Ridley C. James created the Brotherhood universe

Notes: I think I got the gremlins out of this part. I know that asterisks cannot work as dividing points of view. Although geography is not a forte of mine – in the last part I am referring to western part of Virginia. Thank you for the kind notes and reviews. Special short out to the hunters of the hunterstomb who helped me update the stories. Also, before I forget we are taking questions about the AU, just email them over.

Part 3

Dean and Sam were silent in the front seat of the Impala watching the hotel, specifically room 320 on the top floor. Caleb was in the backseat sleeping, having dropped off the truck in Charlotte. Alison had narrowed down Agatha's location and said she would call if there was a change in status.

The car had lulled Caleb to sleep. Sam slept on and off also, giving Dean time to think. He hated seeing them both so exhausted. They were both trying to save him, and he wanted them to succeed. It was hard to sit on the sidelines, unable to risk participation. He wouldn't cause Sam's death.

He was going to Hell. When he got there, he was afraid they would twist him, use him against those he cared about. Then Caleb or Sam or maybe both would have to kill him. But like he couldn't kill Sam, he wondered if they could kill him, and if they did, at what price to their souls?

"Kill me now," he mumbled aloud. Thinking sucked.

"What?" Sam asked from the passenger seat where he stared out the window.

"We should so give him a mohawk." Dean glanced over his shoulder to the sleeping older hunter.

Sam shook his head with a smile. "That's not a good idea."

So Dean thought of another idea. He raised his eyebrows. "Pass me the bag of M & M's."

Sam hesitantly passed his brother the coated candies. "What are you going to do?"

Dean grinned wide. "Wake him up."

His brother knew him too well. "He could choke."

"God, you are such a mother hen." Dean lined up his shot into Caleb's open mouth. The first one hit his nose, resulting in Caleb twitching. Dean tried again, this time successful.

"Yes!" Dean raised his arms.

Reaves's eyes open wide; he darted up from his boneless position. "What the hell?" Caleb spat out the offending candy. "I could've choked!"

'That's what I said." Sam glanced at his brother. "But better that than him going with his first idea of giving you a mohawk."

"What's with you and hair?" Caleb reached out, slapping the side of Dean's head. "You used to threaten to braid Sammy's hair. Something you want to say to us, Deana?"

"Shut up." Dean rubbed the spot Caleb had tagged.

"Where are we?" Reaves wiped a hand down his face, scrubbing away the remnants of sleep.

"We're at the Lancaster Motel," Sam said, glancing at his brother.

"We got here a while ago," Dean divulged. He would rather lay down his reasoning before Caleb had a chance to rant. "Don't start with me either, Reaves. You needed the sleep. Didn't help though —you're still not as handsome as me."

Caleb rolled his eyes, easily seen in the rearview mirror. "I'm in another league: the whole package — charm, brains . . . "

"Next you'll say 'personality'. You realize only ugly chicks say that." Dean knew then just how off they were; bantering took a little more effort.

"The clerk said three people checked in to room 320 and the adjoining room. She took down the car registration. It's not here in the lot," Sam stated, returning to the matters at hand, reining them in as usual.

Dean turned around, his back facing the driver's side window. "Sam called Alison on your phone, and she said the tracking signal is still stable and we're in the right place. She ran that plate, belongs to an obvious alias of Francis Jones. She also said Sammy's her favorite. Suck up."

"She's going to send me a book on Vladimir Nabokov."

"Suck up," Caleb and Dean said at the same time. Dean assumed that Caleb also didn't recognize the name.

"Thanks for the nap, but I think it's time for us to check out the rooms." They parked in the back of the motel. Sam went in to request a room for the night, giving them a reason to be on the premises.

Caleb took lead with Sam in the middle and Dean watching their backs. This part helped center Dean again. It didn't take near the amount of effort that everything else seemed to these days. Together like this, there was the veneer on top, the pull of Hell underneath, and then the fact they had an unbreakable bond at their core. He knew they would get back on track with the rest of it with time. They all had confidence being together.

Caleb stopped at the door and held up his hand for them to stop. He frowned. "I don't think anyone's inside."

Sam bent down with his lock picking tools. In less than a minute, the door was opened, and they crept in as quietly as they could while still looking natural. The room was unnaturally dark. They heard a strange noise. Dean placed his hand on the wall, finding the light switch, illuminating the room with the overhead light.

"There's a body on the bed." Sam ran over to the body, checking the pulse.

Dean and Caleb stood over him. "Wow, she's amazing. Gorgeous." Dean felt his mouth drop open. She looked like a super model with her dark shiny long hair, plump lips, smooth skin, and a wondrous body.

"She's dead," Sam reminded them, looking up at both men with a frown.

"Too bad," Dean sighed.

Caleb reached out and touched a pin on her shirt. "I gave that tracker to Agatha Hennings."

Dean kept his eyes roaming the body, for purely professional reasons only. "How did she get it?"

Caleb shook his head, crouched down close to Sam. "Those are the same clothes Aggy was wearing when I saw her."

"What are you saying?" Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "I hope you're not sayin' —"

Caleb nodded. "I think that might be Agatha Hennings." Reaves placed a hand over his eyes.

"But you said she was old, and well, she's hot, man. That's unfair," Dean sputtered. He also didn't understand how it was even possible. When he had become old, back when Sam was at Stanford, the sirens had been involved. This was the opposite. They had never run into anything that could return youth. And why the subterfuge; if she wanted to be young again, then why involve Caleb and wait for the summit? It didn't make sense.

"She's dead, Dean," Sam said again, standing up. "If this was Agatha Hennings, something went wrong. I don't think she intended to die."

"With a body like that? I don't think so." Dean moved his foot so it touched Caleb's. "If you are right, any idea on how this could happen?"

Caleb placed his hands on his knees, using them to push himself up. "No idea, other than she was a witch." Reaves groaned, "God. I'm going to have to call Mac and tell him, aren't I?"

"Hey, what if this was a mob hit gone bad?"

"Dude, Jim was right." Caleb smirked, and then hit Dean on the back of his head. "Not everything relates to _The Godfather_."

"Didn't Mac tell you that Griffin was involved? I say _The Godfather_ makes perfect sense."

"Guys, look over here." Sam stood in front of one the walls.

"What the hell is this?" Dean studied the sienna and ash colored graffiti on the wall. He got up closer, touching it. "Smells like sage."

"I think runes, maybe, I don't know." Sam shook his head.

"Guess we'll have to call in our consultant."

Dean figured Caleb was calling Josh, their resident witch. The muscle along his jaw automatically twitched.

"Cell is off or he's ignoring it. Let me try one other number." Caleb put his cell phone on speaker when a voice said the name of the public relations company. "Joshua Sawyer, please."

_"He's in a meeting. He can't be disturbed," _said the voice over the phone_._

"Oh, God." Dean caught his brother's attention. He mouthed 'Drew,' who was one of the administrative assistants at the public relations firm. Drew also had a crush on Caleb, Dean and Sam.

"Drew, its Caleb Reaves. How are you?"

_"Good, haven't seen you in awhile," _Drew replied in a hush tone._ "What's it been, like one hundred and two days? Not that I'm counting."_

Caleb shook his head. Dean elbowed his brother; they both smirked at the older hunter.

"I really need to speak to Josh. Very important, could even say family related."

An evil grin lit Dean's face as he tapped his brother and hooked a thumb at Reaves. He asked his brother, "How much do you want to wager Mac and Esme run away to Vegas to get hitched?"

Caleb retorted by using an obscene gesture, making Dean laugh.

_"Big, big, meeting, Caleb. They weren't supposed to be disturbed under any circumstances,"_ Drew said_. _

Caleb sighed, "I'll owe you."

_"Give me five minutes; he'll take the call in his office."_

"Way to take one for the team, Damien." Dean put his thumbs up. His brother put them down.

"He's going to kill you," Sam added with a grin. He was enjoying Caleb's awkward position as much as his brother was.

"This is in no way taking one for the team," Caleb replied, then distinctly muttered, "Stupid idiots."

Sawyer and Reaves would never be brothers in any sense; friends were only recently a possibility. Joshua had covered them — saved them by killing a human he had once been friends with, in fact — even forsaken his father, but years of distrust were hard to erase. It had been agreed that Sawyer would not know about the deal Dean had made with the Crossroad Demon.

_"I must be an idiot for taking this call. I'm at work. A job, I might add, that provides me a roof over my head, one I would like to keep," _Joshua said with an irate tone.

"Sorry, this was important."

"Enough that he has a date with Drew," Dean snickered.

_"Caleb, am I on speakerphone?"_

"Yes, you are."

_"Take me off."_

Reaves ignored Sawyer's phone postulating. "Listen, Sammy's going to send some pictures to your cell phone."

At the prompt, Sam pulled out his phone, taking a few photos.

_"Of what? Camera pictures rank as important?"_

Caleb raked a hand through his hair. "I was assigned to escort Agatha Hennings —"

_"_The_ Agatha Hennings?"_

"You're not going to go all fan girl, are you?" Caleb snorted.

_"She's very powerful."_

"She's a bitch, too."

Dean looked at the dead body —figures someone that bad was in such a pretty package. It was downright sad. He doubted Caleb was exaggerating; he was a gentleman when it came to motherly women. Not having a mother tended to do that to a guy.

_"My grandmother mentioned that."_ Joshua paused. _"Escort her where?"_

"Didn't you know about the witches' summit?" Caleb sent a questioning look at the Winchester brothers. From what Caleb had told them, Esme was pivotal in making the arrangements.

_"No, not at all."_

"Aggy got herself kidnapped. We found her, but she's no longer a cranky eighty-year-old."

_"Remind me not to hire you as a bodyguard. And can you be a little more specific on what happened to her?"_

"She's young again but dead."

"Plastic surgery would have been better, like that guy on E!" Neither him nor his brother was squeamish when it came to blood, but Sam couldn't take watching the show about plastic surgeons in California. He really enjoyed the breast augmentations — well, the after of the surgery, mostly.

_"Hold. I'm receiving Sam's message."_

"You think she was friends with Sawyer's grandmother? The way you describe Agatha, well, she and Jocelyn don't seem to have much in common." Sam cocked his head towards the bed of the dead witch.

Caleb explained, "Aggy said that Jocelyn was pretty much excommunicated."

_"Get out! Get out now!" _Joshua said with urgency_. _

"What's going on?" Caleb pointed to the door.

_"Leave. It's a trap!"_

"Sam, go," Dean ordered his brother, pushing him.

Caleb kept the phone to his ear, following behind Dean. Dean crossed the threshold, his brother in the hallway waiting for them. He turned, waiting for Caleb.

Both brothers' eyes widened in horror when everything turned to slow motion. Caleb faltered as he crossed the threshold then collapsed, the phone skidding out his hand. They had no warning.

"Caleb!"


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Offerings and Takings

Title: Offerings and Takings

By: Tidia

Beta: Household Six

Disclaimer: I surely do not own Supernatural, and Ridley C. James created the Brotherhood universe

Notes: This is the follow up of To The Victor Go The Spoils. You can go to our website at the hunterstomb to see how it fits in. Wow! Thanks for the reviews—I am amazed. Now, I know you want me to hurry up, but I also know that Ridley will be posting her Mother's Day fic, so I will actually use that extra week to get some other writing done.

Sorry about the cliffhanger and away we go. . .

Part 4

Joshua pulled the phone away from his ear as the sharp thump crackled. He stood up from his desk chair. "Hello? What happened? Caleb?" There was no reply. He listened keenly, trying to make out what was being said.

_"Jesus, I don't think he's breathing."_

"Pick up the phone!" he yelled, wondering if his yelling would bring people to his office. Joshua heard the phone being picked up. "Hello?"

"_He's not breathing. Caleb's not breathing._" It was Sam Winchester sounding panicky.

"Bring him back into the room," Joshua directed. "Hurry!" he ordered, trying to stimulate action through the phone line. Thankfully, Sam hadn't closed the connection. He heard the younger Winchester relaying the information to his brother. The spell was connected to Caleb, and to complete it, Agatha needed him there. She had cornered Caleb masterfully, leaving him no route for escape.

_"He says we need to bring him back in."_

_"What?"_

_"Just do it."_

Joshua rubbed his mouth, waiting patiently, hoping he interpreted the symbols correctly. "_Okay, okay, he's breathing,_" Sam said, sounding somewhat relieved. "_Now what?_"

Joshua echoed Sam's relief with a sigh. "Where are you?"

"_Lancaster Motel in Jameson, Virginia._"

Sawyer was thankful they were relatively nearby. "I can make it there in an hour." Before he hung up the phone, he added, "Stay put."

He opened the door to his office, making sure he could leave unimpeded. When he didn't return to the meeting, there would be repercussions. He liked his job. He gave a nod of reassurance. He would be back. Joshua made it out of the building to his car. He used his headset and called the one person he knew could help in this particular situation.

"Mother, are you with Mackland?" He said it plainly, without a hint of accusation. Joshua never asked about the relationship. He and Caleb had agreed that it was better not to know.

_"Pardon me?"_

Unfortunately, he still shocked his mother. However, time was working against them. He needed to be blunt. "Caleb was escorting Agatha Hennings to some sort of summit?"

_"Joshua, I didn't want you to be involved —"_

The devoted son in him was hurt that he had been unaware of a summit. He was also surprised Carolyn hadn't told him. She was probably ordered not to inform him. Joshua frowned, but he focused on the matter at hand. "Mother, I am involved. Agatha Hennings is dead. She used some sort of powerful spell which has affected Caleb."

_"Oh, Joshua. Is he. . . ?"_

"He's alive," Joshua assured his mother. He would never want to be bearer of such bad news. "I'm meeting the Winchesters; they're with him. They sent me some pictures of the markings. I'll send them to you."

_"Glyphs wouldn't be enough. There would need to be an agent."_

"So I thought. I'll know more when I get there. But Mother, any help. . ."

_"Of course. Mackland was supposed to be flying to D.C. to meet me. I'll call him. Joshua, about the summit: I wanted to protect you —"_

"I am accustomed to being shunned by them." His personal dealings with the covens had been rare at best. Jocelyn had given him history lessons about the coven, so he knew their methods. He was aware of their vindictive nature, knew the covens were willing to plot for a long time before exacting revenge. The summit would have placed her in peril, too big of a risk for her to take. "Mother, I am more concerned about your direct involvement with Brotherhood business. It shows The Scholar can be swayed. You could be viewed as a threat."

_"Joshua, oh, Joshua. I promise to be careful. Try not to worry. I love you. I'll call you with whatever I find out."_

He ended the phone call, the loss of contact with his mother instantly weighing on him. Joshua hit his hand against the steering wheel. He hoped his skills would be enough to help Caleb — and his mother. If Caleb died, he didn't know what would happen to his mother or how to protect her from The Brotherhood itself.

((((((((((((((((((((()))))))))))))))))))))))

Half a dozen jokes that didn't seem all that funny about Caleb being dead weight came to mind as Dean pulled the comforter off the bed and helped his brother get the older man onto the other double bed in the room. He placed a pillow beneath Reaves's head while Sam arranged the older hunter's still body. Both were trying to make Caleb comfortable.

"We need to call Mac," Sam said as he sat on the corner of the bed.

"I'll call him," Dean sighed as he pulled out Caleb's phone. Either way, this would be a jarring phone call, but Mac was expecting a call from Caleb, not Dean.

Dean dialed the number, his eyes locked on Sam's while he waited. His free hand he kept on Caleb's chest, reaffirming his heart was beating and he was breathing steadily. He nodded to himself, telling himself that his friend was still in there. He'd had to do that far too often lately.

_"Caleb, everything going well, son?" _The voice was warm and friendly.

Dean closed his eyes. "Mac, it's Dean."

_"Dean, what's happened?"_

Mac's voice immediately took on the pronounced weight of a concerned father, shaking Dean. He didn't know how much to say. He tried to be as direct as possible. "We were helping Caleb with Agatha Hennings. It seemed she was kidnapped."

_"Is he alright?"_

Of course Mac would know something went wrong; Dean was calling instead of Caleb. "Not exactly. You need to get here, Mac. Agatha put a spell on him. She's dead, he's unconscious." He glanced at Caleb and then at Sam, who winced in sympathy.

_"A spell? I need an honest assessment, Dean. How bad is Caleb?"_

He was not going to give Mac bad news, not in this lifetime. "Josh is coming. He's going to figure this out." And if Sawyer did not figure it out, he would.

_"I'm at the airport now. I can change my flight. Where do I need to be?"_

Dean passed along the information. He shut the phone and put it on the nightstand. He took a seat on the corner of the bed. "I hate witches."

Sam was standing over Caleb, looking pale and in shock. He asked, his voice hoarse, "What are we going to do about her?"

Having no real answer, Dean's eyes flicked over the dead body. He had thought she was beautiful. He had no mercy for her now. He stood up, walked over to the body and pulled the comforter off, letting it pool at the bottom of the bed. He grabbed one of Agatha's arms. Sam had come over, helping to pull Agatha so she was lying in the middle of the bed. Dean took the comforter, threw it over the body. He tossed the pillows to his brother. "Take his shoes off and place his feet on the pillows. His legs should be higher than his heart."

"Good point." Sam followed the request, then assessed his work. He gave a nod to his brother. "I'll go get our stuff from the car."

"'kay," Dean replied. He took a seat on the bed again as Sam left. "Damn, you need some Odor Eaters." Dean waved his hand in front of the other hunter's stockinged feet. He sobered quickly. "Sam's only giving me a few minutes." Dean put a hand over his mouth, contemplating his next words for a moment before saying them. "I'm sorry, Damien. Damn sorry."

He placed a hand on Caleb's knee. "I did this. . . Well, not _this_." He smirked. "But you know what I mean." Dean punched the bed. "I see what I did. Tearing you up, tearing Sam up. I'm tearing myself up." He shook his head, then looked at Caleb's passive face.

"I'm not afraid to die. Doesn't make me want to get there any quicker, leaving you guys unprotected or worse." Dean swallowed, focused on the ceiling for a moment to get his emotions back under control. "I don't want to turn into something used against you and Sam. Can I ask you to kill me if that happens?" Dean waited for an answer. "I know. You can't do it. I couldn't kill Sammy either. Gawd."

He studied Caleb, taking in all the cracks that were noticeable in his appearance. "You know, I notice things, like the fact you look like shit. This isn't cool. Not cool at all." Caleb actually looked leaner, which was unusual. "I want to live, but I don't want you risking your life for me. I want you and Sam to have a long life, part of The Triad."

He waited a moment, hoping Caleb would answer. Reaves wanted to be The Knight — he was the epitome of Pastor Jim's Brotherhood. Dean needed Caleb to take the position if only so that his year would end with some spark of hope. He needed Caleb to wake up and tell him he understood that. Dean heard the footsteps coming down the hall, Sam on purpose making noise to warn his brother. Dean appreciated it.

"We should have more conversations like this," he quipped as Sam walked in with their bags.

"Where the other person is unconscious?" The younger Winchester tossed the duffels on the floor.

"He agrees with everything I say." Dean shrugged. He pointed to his head. "Can you mind meld with him? Like you did before?" When Caleb had been beaten up by other hunters, Sam had been able to connect with an unconscious Caleb.

"I'd rather not with the spell. I'll wait for Mac." Sam picked at his hand. "He's going to pull through this, right?"

"Yeah, yeah. He has to, man," Dean was reassuring himself as well. Caleb and Sam had to remain safe.

"Just like last time," Sam said like he was trying to convince Caleb and Dean just as much as himself.

"Right," Dean agreed. Sam was referring to their last Christmas when Caleb had been poisoned. Joshua had made an antidote, and they'd been able to make it to Virginia to do a proper holiday, safe and sound. Of course, that was when they first discovered there was a faction in The Brotherhood against them. What would happen now?

Sitting waiting for Joshua with a dead body and an unconscious Caleb did not make time go by faster. The Winchesters went through their father's journal, and then Dean looked at his watch repeatedly, willing Sawyer to their location sooner rather than later.

He came one hour and seventeen minutes later. Sam was watching for his car from the window, announcing his arrival.

Dean opened the door for him before he knocked. "You're late."

Joshua adjusted the strap on the messenger bag slung across his body. "I got here as soon as I could. My car does not have wings."

Dean crossed his arms, barring the entrance.

"Are you going to let me in? Time is of the essence."

"Dean," his brother prompted. Dean stepped away, allowing Joshua to enter.

Joshua gave a curt nod to Sam, a brief glance to Caleb, then walked up to the decorated wall. His finger glided along each glyph. He mumbled to himself about the symbol. "I need to see the body."

Joshua frowned once Dean removed the comforter and revealed the body. "That's not Agatha Hennings."

"According to Caleb, it is," Sam explained.

Sawyer traced a few of the symbols once more. "She used a spell to make herself young. I didn't believe it," Joshua uttered, but Dean didn't know if it was to them or himself.

"And to take out Caleb," Dean added. It was not a coincidence the future Knight of The Brotherhood was in this situation. It was never coincidence when Caleb looked like this. "Black magic shit."

"This isn't black magic; you people are so quick to call everything that. Black magic involves a sacrifice — animal or human, bone or blood — to bring about a harm. Crafting is the origin point for most sciences—using herbs and such to do some sort of transformation," Joshua said as he examined the body, very unlike a doctor. He turned her hands over, opened her mouth. He then did the same to Caleb.

"I still hate witches."

Sam frowned at his brother. Dean feigned innocence with a shrug. Sam gave a pointed look between Dean and Caleb. This was about him, not Dean. While they held their silent conversation, he also asked Joshua, "What are you looking for?"

"Do you have any of her things?" Joshua countered.

Sam got up to get the bag he had brought in earlier. Dean stopped him. "Can you answer the question? We don't like being in the dark, _Josh_."

"I don't like to be pulled out of work, _Dean_. So we're even." Joshua rolled his shoulders. "There is a symbol up there about power. It looks like she took power from Caleb to make herself young. But that writing is only one part. There needs to be something that makes the transfer."

"Like a potion?" Sam asked as he pulled the contents out of the bag, setting them on the floor. "Not much in here."

Dean crossed his arms in frustration, not trusting himself not to lash out with his fists at Joshua. He didn't understand what a toiletries case had to do with helping Caleb. "Are you going to be able to fix this?"

Joshua crouched down, touching each of the bottles and containers. "Ideally, it would be nice to bring her back, but she died of natural causes, and the spell wasn't completed because she is dead and Caleb is alive. I'd guess an aneurysm. Right now, it is about trying to figure out the puzzle." He sniffed one of the bottles.

"You suck at puzzles." Dean recalled times at Jim's house when Joshua would refuse to work on the pastor's puzzles.

"Then you better let me concentrate all the more." He opened another container, testing the cream between his fingers. "And for the record, I don't suck at puzzles. I find them boring."

Agatha Hennings used a lot of products. Joshua sniffed, touched, and tasted. "To complete the spell, she needed him here. How did you locate her?"

"Caleb gave her a mini hunter." Dean paced around the older hunter, watching him work, unsure what to do.

"A what?" Joshua scrunched his nose as he sniffed another container.

"Tracking device," Sam explained, giving a hard look to his brother, which said he needed to stop instigating Joshua.

"And she used it against him. She was determined, so I assume there was another plan in place so Caleb would find her."

Joshua brought up a good point. The spell along with the plot against The Brotherhood would have to be unwoven. However, Dean knew in the end it led to Griffin Porter. "She didn't count on us being with him."

Joshua tested another lotion. "This is it." He pulled his phone from his pocket.

"You phoning a friend, now?" Dean snorted.

"Can't you deconstruct it like they do with antidotes?" Sam glared at his brother, making a slashing motion across his throat with his hand.

"Yes, but I need help." He placed his phone to his ear. "Mother, I found the agent. I just need to. . .I know it would take time. . .No, we don't." His eyes flicked to Caleb. "They've agreed? Or is this a negotiation? . . . Promise me I don't have to worry about you. . . Very well."

"What did she say?" Dean prompted after listening to half the conversation. He glanced back at Caleb, wondering if he was suffering in his state.

"She arranged a meeting with Agatha Hennings's coven. It takes time to deconstruct a potion — time we don't have. The coven will be familiar with her style and ingredients." Joshua rubbed his face. "We need to leave, but I need to buy us some time with Reaves."

"Buy some time? Start explaining, Josh. I don't hear your inner monologue," Dean said. He had limited knowledge about what Sawyer did on a good day.

"I guess I can dumb it down for you." Joshua was still wearing his messenger bag; he went over to Caleb, pulling out items on the bed. He removed some wet wipes, washing down the psychic's hands.

"Baby wipes?" Dean snickered. Sam's eyes bugged out at him emphatically one more time with a sharp gesture at Caleb. This time, Dean didn't even bother to acknowledge it.

"They are antibacterial and soft," Joshua retorted.

"Softening his hands is not the problem we are trying to solve." Dean knew part of the problem with Joshua was his own attitude, which Sawyer didn't ignore. Instead the older hunter escalated the conversation.

"She used hand cream do deliver the agent. There are some herbs I can use to the slow the progression of his death, because this will lead to death, but I need to bind him to someone, someone has to stay with him because he can't leave here. There is a tenuous link between them." He gestured to Agatha. "He leaves this room, he's dead."

"I'll do it," Dean volunteered. He didn't know what was involved, but he would give what he could to Caleb in order to help him.

Joshua shook his head. "I was going to suggest Sam since they have a connection."

"A what?" Sam looked taken aback. Dean didn't comprehend his brother's reaction.

"Your psychic abilities." Joshua sighed.

"Oh. That," Sam replied. "Sure, if it'll help."

"I think it will. Especially when using anise seed, which increases psychic energy." Joshua unwound a leather pouch, removing a small silver knife. "The rest? Think of it as being blood brothers. Your hand?"

Sam winced as Joshua made a slice across his palm. He picked up Caleb's hand to cut it; Dean noticed the scar on his friend's hand from when Duran held them hostage. Dean clenched his fist where he had a scar. Sam would have one now too, linking them all as blood brothers.

Joshua scattered some powders onto Caleb's cut. He then placed Sam's hand on top, holding them together.

"It feels warm," Sam commented.

"You okay?" Dean asked his brother, wanting to make sure Sam wasn't affected.

Sam looked at his brother, giving him a nod. "It's for Caleb."

"That means it's working," Joshua answered. "He's taking some energy from you. He may even wake up." Sawyer held his hands in place for five minutes before releasing them. Joshua glanced over to Dean. "You can cease the daggers at my back. It's not energy Sam will miss."

Dean rifled through his duffle, finding the first aid kit. He opened an alcohol swab, grabbed Sam's hand and cleaned it, ignoring the hiss from his brother. He then bandaged it.

"Don't wrap his up," Joshua warned when Dean was about to tend to Caleb's oozing slice.

Dean stepped away, awkwardly holding the medical kit. There wasn't anything for him to do except go with Joshua. "Will this coven give us the antidote?"

"Possibly," Sawyer answered while he packed up his supplies.

"Possibly?" Dean growled. "Start talking, Josh."

Sawyer put his hands up. "Covens don't give out their secrets without a high price."

"We'll give them anything they want," Dean spat. "You got that, Josh? Anything. He's not dying."


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Offerings and Takings

By: Tidia

Beta: GirlSix

Disclaimer: Same as always

**Important Note: Neither Ridley nor myself will be doing any tags. We have lots of plans, which you can see at the hunterstombdotcom with the names of other stories to come. Our storyline has been planned for over a year and we are sticking to it. Tara did another great video to Coldplay's Fix You which you can see at the hunterstomb.**

Part 5

"The arsenal is not necessary and won't be that effective," Joshua commented as he waited for Dean. "I can watch your back."

"I'll take my security blankets," Dean said as he stroked the nine millimeter before tucking it in his waistband. He made sure he was leaving Sam with some weapons. Dean placed a gun in an ankle holster, and knives up his sleeves.

The door slammed shut after Sam gave his brother another round of assurances that he was fine and would stay that way until Mackland arrived. The doctor was expected shortly. Dean and Joshua left to meet with the coven, leaving Sam to wait things out alone.

Sam picked at the white bandage across his palm. The matching cut on Caleb had clotted and crusted with Joshua's herb mixture. Sam waited, hoping Caleb would awaken. He needed Caleb to wake up right now.

He pulled the desk chair over sitting near Caleb on the side away from Agatha Hennings's body. He sat down, dropped his elbows to his knees. "He's scared, Caleb. And I'm scared, too." He placed a hand on his forehead. "I don't want to be alone."

Sam looked up to see if there was a reaction, but Caleb remained still. "I wasn't alone at Stanford. Mac made sure to remind me of that. And I had friends, and then I found Jess." His mind drifted to Jessica, little happy moments blending together. She was so fresh, alive, and beautiful. He cleared his throat. "You guys called it selfish." Sam never liked the connotation of the word. He had been following his dream. That wasn't selfish.

He licked his lips. "But there were these times that I thought for sure you were going to show up and tell me something happened to Dean or Dad or both. Or maybe Dean would show up wrecked to tell me you were gone. That time Pastor Jim called and told me about Dean. . .the time you came to school. . . " Sam inhaled a breath, exhaling with a hitch. "I'm not going to be alone. I'm not," he said vehemently.

A dark anger thrashed its way to the surface each time Sam thought of Dean's deal, of being left without his brother. It was unfair. He blamed it on himself, on God and on Dean. He didn't want there to be bitterness between him and Dean. Yet Sam's fear was piquing as each day drew to a close. He needed his family. Dean was leaving him in this position, and now Caleb was succumbing. He wished he had stayed dead, didn't have this burden. He wiped the tear that was tracking down his face. Clearing it, he saw Caleb twitch. "Hey!" He reached out and squeezed Caleb's arm.

Caleb stretched, blinking before his head lolled towards where Sam sat. "Sam? What happened?" He licked his lips.

Sam released Caleb, fumbling to find a water bottle. He felt foolish for having forgotten that when Caleb woke up he would be thirsty. However, a filled water glass was on the nightstand, left by Joshua during his ministrations. He helped Caleb to sit up then passed him the glass. "We tried to leave and you fainted."

Caleb took a tentative sip, eying Sam over the glass. "Fainted?"

"Collapsed to the point of momentary death. Does that sound better?"

"Much." Caleb drank more before returning the glass its prior place. "I feel fine now. Where's Deuce?"

"He went with Joshua."

"Josh was here?" Caleb frowned.

"Yeah. All that stuff on the wall, it's a spell to take power from you and give it to her so she could be young again." Sam pointed to the two symbols Joshua had concentrated on.

Caleb pushed himself up further to a sitting position. Sounding almost childish in his demand, he said, "So just say the magic words and put everything back."

While Sam wanted nothing more than to be able to do just that, the best he could do was place his hand on the older hunter's chest. "Lay back down. You can't leave here, not until they get back."

"What do you mean?" Caleb looked down at Sam's hand.

Sam removed his hand. "There are two parts—the spell and the agent to transfer the spell. She got you with some hand cream. Joshua and Dean went to get the potion from Agatha's coven."

"The stinking hand cream? Embarrassing." Caleb's head dropped back.

"Or you can look at it as you were too much for her." Sam shrugged. "She is dead, after all."

"I like that idea better." Caleb paused, studying Sam. "You volunteered to stay behind to share those words of wisdom? Because Deuce would have kept up the hand cream humiliation."

"We're bound together." Sam lifted his bandaged hand; Caleb's eyes dropped to his open cut. "Joshua thought our link would be better." Sam made his confession, "I thought he meant the demon connection, but he was just talking about us being psychic."

Caleb narrowed his eyes, picking up Sam's bandaged hand. "You don't have a link to demons. Not anymore. And Josh, he's an ass." Sam felt Caleb squeeze his hand.

"Who's gonna save your life," Sam commented with a smirk to lighten the mood. He couldn't tell Caleb they were still connected, that he had been tainted by the Yellow-Eyed Demon when he was six months old.

"That's scary."

"Well, the second choice is death— and I need someone on my side, Caleb. For Dean." Sam patted his friend's leg.

"I've been working on it," Caleb said tiredly as he rubbed his eyes. "So haven't Mac and Bobby . . . "

"What have you been doing?" Since they were alone, it was a better time to press the older hunter for answers. "The truth, Caleb. I'm going to find out."

Caleb took a deep breath, exhaled slowly before speaking. "The amulet that Noah Seaver had...I took it from the farm."

"What? You removed weapons from The Tomb?" Sam was taken aback. Jim had expressly forbidden that. "Dude, Dean will be pissed."

"Technically it hadn't made to The Tomb. I'm not afraid of The Guardian — especially not when I'm doing this for his own good."

"Doing what exactly?" Sam squeezed the back of his neck.

"I figured Noah Seaver wasn't meaning to get himself possessed by old Yellow-Eyes; I mean, who would do something stupid like that? I believe he was trying to 'possess' a powerful spirit...use its abilities for his own purposes."

"But Noah Seaver was a regular man, with no special abilities of his own." Sam was putting the pieces together. "He would have been no match for the spirit or demon."

"Probably thought the amulet would help. But it's only a part of the equation. I think the amulet might have been used by demons to call forth and capture other demons. Then it allows the person who's wearing it to steal the powers of their constituents."

"So it wasn't designed to be used by someone 'normal'?" Sam felt nauseous with a sinking sensation.

"Right. I'm not normal." Caleb looked down then back up at Sam. "Rose got me to thinking. I am part demon and a powerful psychic."

"So you what, man? Thought you could possess demons, use their abilities?" Sam shook his head. Why did everyone in his life have to do everything the hardest way first? "At what cost?" Sam stood up, paced a bit in fury at the older hunter.

"It's working, Sammy. I can possess them, and I can control them...for a while. I mean I've only practiced with lower levels, but when I get better at it..."

Sam stared at the bedridden hunter and followed his train of thought to the nasty end. Caleb thought he could possess the demon who wanted Dean. "No. This isn't a good idea." Sam could already see the physical effect it was having on Caleb. Then there was the damage to Caleb's soul to consider. He had resisted his demonology his entire life; now he was calling it forth of his own will. "You don't know what the amulet might do to you. Possession is dangerous. People die from it. Or worse."

"I've been careful and Jessup —"

"Isn't a hunter. He doesn't know the consequences, which is exactly why you went to him. He's out of the loop."

"I'm not letting him die."

Sam recognized the stubborn set of Caleb's jaw. "You think I want that?" Feeling the anger build again, Sam took a moment to calm his emotions. "I'm scared shitless, but this isn't the way."

Caleb closed his eyes. "I'm tired...What'd that bitch do to me exactly?"

"She almost killed you, but Josh has an answer." Sam sat on the edge of the bed. Caleb had paled. "Proves that no matter what, someone will have an answer, and we'll find it." He urged. "You don't have to do this, man. Promise me we'll work for another way instead. You with me?"

Caleb shrank back into the pillow, blinking heavily. "Just real tired all of a sudden."

"Stay awake, okay? I'm a little freaked out."

"What's the matter?" Caleb slurred, struggling to open his eyes.

"I'm here with a dead body," Sam blurted, but it was his fear of being alone that was causing him distress. They were going down a slippery slope.

"You've seen them before," Caleb mumbled.

"Mac's coming," Sam stated, biting the side of his thumb. Caleb didn't reply, returning to sleep. He hoped the doctor would be there soon. He called and left a message for Mackland to call him.

Sam kept himself busy for the next hour watching Caleb sleep and trying to do some research. He didn't want to disturb Dean while he was with Joshua or worry him for no apparent reason. He checked his cell again to make sure it was working when it started to glow. "Mac?"

_"I'm in the rental car and will be there soon. How's Caleb?"_

"Asleep, but he woke up for awhile." Sam was looking for more signs that Caleb would wake again.

_"Good. That's good."_

Sam hoped that was a medical opinion and not a hopeful father one. "You'll be here soon?"

_"In thirty minutes."_

"I should let you concentrate on your driving."

Despite the voices of Jim, Mac, and his father in his head reminding him that a watched pot would never boil, Sam repeatedly checked his watch. He took up a vigil at the window, waiting, watching, tapping his foot with the ticking seconds. Within twenty minutes Mac arrived, though it felt like longer. Sam waved from the window; the doctor saw him and jogged to the motel from the parking lot.

Mac looked grim at the door; these unexpected, dire messages were probably not good for his health. Sam could see why the ruling of The Brotherhood required three men. Sam gave the doctor a quick hug of relief but immediately opened the way for Mac to get to his son.

The doctor ignored the body on the bed, instead rushing to his son's side. Mac placed a hand on Caleb's forehead, brushing the hair off his face before laying a hand against his cheek. He took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly, his eyes closed in relief. When he opened them, he saw Sam watching him warily. As though it were a relief to admit, Mac explained, "There has been an estrangement between us since Jim's farm."

"Dean's deal," Sam replied. There were a lot of deeper repercussions on all of them than just Dean going to Hell.

"He thinks I should have told him. Maybe I should have." Mac rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. "I've fallen off my pedestal. It happens to all parents, I suppose. Sometimes when you are younger, sometimes when you are older."

Sam glanced down. His father fell off his dais when he made Sam choose between college and their family. "You're a great dad. You're still on a pedestal."

Mackland gave him a small smile. "I compete with a ghost, Sam."

Sam shook his head. "But Dad—"

"Not John Winchester. Isaac Reaves." Sam didn't now how to reply. Caleb had shared more with Dean about his biological family. Mac continued, "There are times when I wonder what his real father do."

"Like fight his way out of Hell?"

"Something like that."

"You've fought for him. He knows it." Sam reached out and squeezed Mac's forearm. Caleb was Mac's son; right now Sam saw how much he loved Caleb, sacrifices he would make for his boy, just like John Winchester had.

Mac patted Sam's hand. "Have you tried to read him telepathically?"

"I thought it was best to wait for you."

Mac placed Sam's hand on Caleb's forehead. "Just a nudge to say we are here, nothing more."

Sam understood. He didn't know the spell's effect on Caleb's mind, what protection his psychic abilities were providing. Like Caleb had taught him, he pictured entering a library, but instead of opening the books, he brought up the image of himself standing in the reference section. 'Caleb, it's Sam. Mac's with me when you want to wake up.' He retreated, breaking the contact, blinking as he returned to the motel room.

"Thank you." Mac smiled. "We'll just wait and see."

They waited ten minutes in silence before Caleb's eyes fluttered open.

"Sammy? Dad?"

Mac again placed his hand on his son's cheek with a beaming smile and watery eyes. "How does escorting Agatha Hennings lead to a beautiful dead girl and you lying in a bed?"

"Sounds like I almost got it right," Caleb said, his voice deeper than usual.

Sam gestured to the glass of water near Mac, who lifted his son's head, placing the glass against Caleb's lips. He waited until he took a few sips before letting Caleb rest against the pillow. "How do you feel?"

"Tired. . . Brutally tired."

"You look like you could use the sleep, son. You shouldn't run yourself down," Mac said in a soft tone, void of any reprimand.

"I can sleep in, like, seven months." Caleb opened his eyes wide but then closed them.

Sam remained silent. He wasn't about to mention what Caleb had been up to with the amulet to Mackland. They had only just agreed to a truce with finding a solution for Dean still the ultimate goal.

"Try to get some sleep. We'll be here when you wake up and everything will be fine. I promise."

"Never known you to break your promises, Dad," Caleb responded as his voice faded out.

"I try not to, I try not to." Mac said, watching as Caleb succumbed to sleep once more. The doctor pulled up one of Caleb's sleeves to take his pulse. Sam was too slow to stop the action. Mac's fingers traced over the burn marks. He glared at Sam. "Do you know anything about this?"

The younger man gulped under the gaze like he was all of five years old again. Sam did not want to lie to Mac either as The Scholar or as a member of their disjointed family. There were too many secrets and lies as it was. "I—"

Mac put his hand up. "I'm sorry, Samuel. I know it has something to do with Dean. I won't ask." He squeezed Caleb's wrist. "Promise me you'll watch out for him. Stop him if you need to. I think you know how to."

"Yes." Sam knew exactly what would make Caleb stop—Dean. If his brother discovered what his best friend was doing, he would put a stop to it. However, he was going to accept Caleb's oath that he wouldn't continue using the amulet.

"Good." Mackland gave a curt nod. "So can you tell me what happened?" He pointed to the dead body. "Where Dean is? Esme also said Joshua would be here."

Sam felt relieved. It was easy to be in the position of providing information. "Dean and Joshua went to Agatha's coven to get the antidote."

Mackland looked startled. "Have they checked in yet?"

"I was going to call, but it'll take them a bit to get to their meeting point. I didn't want to call him unless necessary." They all had jobs to do without distractions.

"I think it is best to give them a call." Mackland pinched the bridge of his nose. "Those two are not known to work well together when there are other people around. What can we expect when they are alone together?"

"Bloodshed?" Sam quipped. Dean perpetuated an air of hostility towards Joshua, though Sawyer did incite it to some degree. It had lessened a notch after Joshua sided with The Triad against his father, but Dean would always be prejudiced. Joshua had been involved in beating Caleb when he was sixteen. When it came to people hurting those he loved, Dean had a long memory and a tendency to be less than forgiving.

"Sam."

"I'm calling him right now." It was a good idea now that Sam thought about it.


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Offerings And Takings

By: Tidia

Beta: GirlSix

Disclaimer: See part 1

Notes: This is the Dean and Joshua conversation which has been requeted and I hope I did it justice. Thank you for all the kind reviews, they are truly appreciated.

Part 6

They were heading to Roane County in the mountains around Spencer, West Virginia. The area was purported to be inhabited by a strange beast. Hunters had started the story; it was revived twenty years later with limited evidence, but it did keep people away from the area. It was a perfect place for a coven to be secretly located.

Dean notched the volume of Metallica up to drown out his worries. Joshua was uncommunicative, which suited him. There was not much to say except they had to help Caleb. Joshua was studying his journal. Dean glanced over, saw the neat script and the stiff pieces of paper carefully clipped and taped in; he wasn't exactly surprised at the crispness of it.

Without glancing up, Joshua reached across and lowered the volume.

"Driver picks the music—" Dean started.

"Passenger lowers the volume," Joshua interjected. "I'm trying to do some work."

Dean twisted the knob so the radio was completely off. "The work doesn't start until we get there. That's when I expect you to turn on your charm and get the potion for Caleb."

Joshua looked away from his journal. "Being a Guardian and ordering people about seems to come easy to you."

When Pastor Jim was The Guardian, he didn't seem to give orders. Everyone knew what was expected. Dean didn't know what kind of Guardian he'd make, if any, but Joshua didn't know about his deadline. It was going to stay that way. "I guess it does."

"The coven won't appreciate your sense of humor." Joshua returned his focus to his journal and flipped the page.

"You mean they're like you."

Sawyer slammed the book shut. "You need to show some respect for the craft."

Dean snorted in disgust at Joshua's reverence. "I have a lot of respect for something that is killing my best friend."

"That wasn't the original intent." Joshua fidgeted in the passenger seat, the leather squeaking. "I repeat: crafting is ancient, originally from alchemy. It is better defined as transfiguring—changing the composition of one thing to another using natural ingredients. So Agatha's coven will be familiar with the elements she used and their counteragents. I suggest not using the term 'black magic' around them."

"They'll give us the cure," Dean stated. If they didn't do it willingly, he would force them. Bloodshed was not beyond him at this point.

"I really hate repeating myself. They have agreed to talk to us, negotiate."

"And you have a manual on Negotiating Tactics 101 for Witches? I do, too: Smith and Wesson." Dean didn't catch what Joshua muttered under his breath, but then a thought occurred to him. "You're jealous because you're usually the go-to guy when magic is involved, but this time someone is smarter than you."

"You really can be an ass," Joshua said, rubbing a hand across his forehead. "Do you know anything about my family?"

Dean ignored the insult. He had been called worse by better men than Sawyer. He could also verbally retaliate. "Your mom and Mac are going at it, your father's a dick, and your grandmother is feisty. I like feisty."

"My grandmother, before marrying my grandfather, was part of the coven Agatha Hennings once led."

"Awkward." Dean liked Jocelyn, wondered how she could be cool and her grandson such an idiot. He hoped there would be no repercussions to her for their actions.

"Yes." Joshua placed his hand on his journal. "They were her family."

"They won't go after her, will they?"

"No, they would never consider her a threat now."

Relieved, Dean resumed his teasing. "So you're expecting some big welcome home party? Maybe a little BBQ? I bet they have a kick ass secret sauce."

"She was shunned, especially when she refused to spy for them." Joshua turned to look pensively through the passenger window.

"Your grandmother went rogue." Dean shrugged. "Maybe they've gotten over it."

"She was excommunicated. It meant she was not supposed to pass down her teachings," Sawyer explained in a clipped tone.

"Why's that?"

"A coven is powerful because they work together. They can't have one person with their own personal agenda." Joshua turned to look at Dean. "I think you know what happens when someone becomes obsessed."

Dean's anger flared. Joshua knew what buttons to push. "Spare me the innuendo, Josh. We got the Yellow-Eyed Demon."

"Sometimes it isn't just about _you_ and _your family_. That wasn't my original insinuation. However, maybe that's your guilty conscience talking. You and yours did release two hundred spirits from Hell, adding strain to The Brotherhood."

Dean's first inclination was to hit Joshua; his second was to push his foot further into the gas pedal. The sooner they got to Spencer, the better. "Did you have plans to retire?" Dean questioned Joshua's loyalty. He had a cushy life away from The Brotherhood. "Think of Sam and me as visionaries. We didn't want hunters sitting on their asses behind a desk at their normal jobs when they should be in the field helping the cause."

"Do not question my sense of duty." Sawyer's voice shook. "_I am_ your best chance at helping Caleb. _I am_ a member of The Brotherhood and supposed Advisor of The Triad. I'll do my duty. I always have."

"And when you, Ian and Fisher beat up Caleb? That was part of your duty?" Dean remembered everything from when he was a child—especially when it involved injury of someone he cared about.

Joshua slapped his journal against his thigh. "It always comes back to that one moment. I have done my penance for that act repeatedly."

"You really think so?" Dean seethed. "I remember going to the hospital, seeing you with your head down, then seeing Caleb in that hospital bed." Dean gripped the steering wheel. "I wished it was you in that bed instead of him." Dean never forgot when he made a connection with Caleb, one of the only people in the world he had ever let himself count on. Their mothers had died horrific deaths. Dean kept the link sacred. It didn't matter if he didn't have any friends his age; he had Caleb to turn to. But that incident had been a stark reminder of the frailty of life and love, meaning he had to be willing to protect all those around him.

"I wish it had been me, too."

"It wasn't, and in my book your so-called penance has been one step forward two steps back. You never told Jim that your father was involved with kidnapping either." Dean referred to the revelation in Wyoming. Joshua knew Harland had been involved, plotted against Pastor Jim. It was treason against The Brotherhood when Joshua purported loyalty.

"I didn't want to believe my father could be treacherous. I think you can understand not wanting to reveal your father's flaws." Joshua paused. "I chose you over my own father in Wyoming. You need to trust me and my abilities."

Dean placed his hand over his mouth. Joshua had gone too far in bringing up John. His father was a hero, unlike Harland. His father had faults, but they were tempered and not by a slick veneer. "Trust? More like tolerate, especially when you start poking me with a stick expecting me not to take that stick and ram it down your throat."

There was no immediate retort from Sawyer, only harsh breathing from both of them as their emotions spiraled.

"Perhaps it would be better for me to do this on my own. Trust is a two way street."

It was an unacceptable answer to Dean. Caleb was his responsibility. "I saved your life, Sawyer."

"And I have saved yours without as much as a 'thank you'." Joshua pointed to himself, hitting his chest. "But still I did my duty. Can you say the same?"

Dean performed his duty as brother first. The Brotherhood came second. "I do what I need to do, and at least I am not afraid of the consequences." Dean knew they had crossed into hurtful ground of vindictiveness. It was a lucky thing his phone rang.

"Sam, Mac get there yet?" He gave his full attention to the phone call, ignoring the other occupant of the car. "I'm fine. Josh is okay. Yes, Sam, he's breathing. Yes, through his nose." Dean sighed in frustration over his brother's concern for Joshua. There was no need to worry about the older hunter. He didn't need a defender. "Mac wants to speak to Josh? One second." Dean passed the phone to Sawyer. "Here, your step-dad wants to talk to you."

Joshua was looking down at his journal. Dean hit Joshua on the shoulder with the phone. Sawyer stared at the phone for a second before taking the phone call. "Mackland? The binding will hold for a few hours. He's in no danger." Joshua nodded. "Sleep will slow the spell." There was a pause. "I did speak to her and she said she was safe. She made the arrangements. Hold on." He turned to Dean. "Do you have anything further to say?"

Dean shook his head.

"We'll report back," Joshua stated into the phone, closed it, and handed it back to Dean. "You are The Guardian-elect, and I suppose we should consider that we need a decent working relationship. I think we need a détente."

Dean recognized the olive branch. He returned the phone to his pocket, mulling over the suggestion. "Are you saying that as Advisor-elect?"

"Yes, I am."

"Fine, but the volume on the music goes back up unless you give me a good reason why it shouldn't — in the spirit of détente and all." Dean's hand hovered in front of the knob.

Joshua flipped through his journal and spread it open to show the drawing over two pages. "This is a depiction of my maternal family tree. For _our_ benefit I need to familiarize myself with it by the time we get to Spencer."

Dean didn't question Joshua further. There was more to this than he was going to understand in a car ride. What he did know was that somehow the fact he was related to the coven was important and could be used to their benefit. He had to trust Sawyer on this point. "You can make it a sing-a-long to _Hotel California_ or make a rhyme out of it. Use the first letter of each name. Got me through the Revolutionary War. I know some limericks that may help." Dean recalled Caleb helping him to memorize certain facts in the fourth grade. He had been struggling, and Caleb along with his father, had become inventive, although John had disapproved of some of Caleb's little ditties.

Joshua shook his head. "Somehow I think they wouldn't be appropriate."

"Who mentioned appropriate?" Dean grinned, trying to remember the one about certain parts of a woman's anatomy. "And Josh?"

"Yes?"

"This peace agreement is temporary."

"Agreed. This is taking a lot out of me." Joshua sighed.

"Yeah. Thinking before you talk must be difficult for you." Dean smiled as he kept his eyes on the road and got in the last word.

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The quarrel with Dean was inevitable. They both had divergent concerns—Dean for Caleb and Joshua for his mother— not that he was shirking his duty towards Reaves. However, he felt his mother was in harm's way, and if the attitude toward him was any sign, she would not be defended. He would have to make sure she remained safe.

Joshua was happy to suggest a peaceful stalemate, especially after Dean's comments. He would always have the stain of being Harland's son, never to be fully trusted, and his actions would never be sufficient to prove his loyalty.

They were pulling up to Spencer with Joshua still memorizing the important names of the coven. Somehow he found himself humming along to the tune in the car, discovering the names did rhyme if placed in a certain order. It was the only preparation he could think of. The rest would be based on his wits and the variable of having Dean with him.

"Showtime," Dean stated.

He closed his book, slipping it into his bag. He carried minimal weapons though Dean carried an arsenal. Weapons in this case would not be useful, only providing Dean with a semblance of protection. Joshua tugged at the drawstrings of his sweatshirt. He had changed at the rest stop under protest from Dean that he was wasting time. He needed his clothing to be more functional: a black fleece hooded sweatshirt, a t-shirt, cargo pants and hiking books. The sports jacket and slacks were packed away.

"According to the map I looked at while you were putting your makeup on, there's a trail that leads to a clearing. Does that sound right?"

Joshua recalled his mother's direction. "Yes, there should be a well-marked trail."

They stepped out of the car, turning on their flashlights to catch the signage of the start of trail. Dean took the lead of the hike since neither of them knew the area, so it didn't exactly matter unless they got lost. Dean set a quick pace for the unfamiliar terrain.

Joshua looked around at the ominous trees in the darkness. He stopped, calling out to Dean, "Don't you feel it?" He shivered.

"What?" Dean turned around but held his few steps ahead.

"We're walking into a trap." Joshua crouched down, taking out a blade from his pack and digging into the earth.

"Tell me something I don't know," Dean replied, taking a few steps closer to Joshua. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to protect us." Joshua thought about linking them to the earth, providing at least a moment of time. He cut the top of his finger, dropping some blood into the small pile of dirt he had made. He pulled one of the branches of green wood, lit it and then blew on it to cause its embers to burn quick. "If something happens, run for it."

"And you'll what? Hold them off?" Dean snorted. "Like I'm a lightweight? Dude, I can take care of myself."

The elder hunter took his blade, placing the dirt mixture on the blade and handed it to Dean. "Not amongst a coven. Rub your hands with this."

Dean narrowed his eyes but surprisingly did not further question Joshua, who also rubbed his hands liberally.

They made it to the clearing, Dean holding his arm out to stop Joshua from going forward. "They already know we're here. Why don't we wait for them to show themselves?"

"Because we are the invited guests," Joshua stated, waiting for Dean to drop his hand. When he did, they walked into the clearing with both Dean and his gun at the ready.

"Now what?" Dean asked as they got to the center, using their flashlights to see into the dark inkiness.

Then one light which looked more like a firefly led to another light until they were surrounded in a circle by small lights. The lights got closer as people carrying candles came forward, limiting their escape.

"Stop. Back up." Dean pointed his gun straight ahead.

Joshua followed suit, back to back with Dean, covering the other side. Out in the open, there was a feeling of claustrophobia.

A woman stepped forward; she was wearing a long sweater that fluttered around her, a belt loosely tied around her waist. "It is just a warm welcome."

"Lady, this isn't friendly," Dean answered, his weapon at the ready.

She put her hands up. "I'll rectify that. I'm Nadine, I'm—" She took one hand and extended it to Joshua.

"Tilman's youngest daughter. I know who you are." He didn't accept the handshake.

"Cousin." She nodded.

"Twice removed," he retorted.

"Not related at all. Have to agree with him." Dean gestured with his head.

"You're Joshua Sawyer," Nadine prompted.

"This is Dean Winchester," Joshua finished the introductions.

"The future Guardian of The Brotherhood." Nadine bowed.

Joshua grimaced, recognizing his mistake. He should have never revealed Dean.

"That has no bearing, Nadine. This was arranged in good faith," a familiar female voice interjected.

Joshua narrowed his eyes and dropped his arm when he saw the woman walking towards them. "Mother?"

"Hello, Joshua." She smiled. "Dean."

"Mother?" he repeated in disbelief. She had promised she was staying safe. This was not his definition of a safe situation.

"I got here a little early, hoping to come to some sort of terms before you got here. However, they insisted we wait."

"Are you okay?"

"She's fine. Although, Esme, I do not believe you are acting in good faith. Guns smack of brute force. It does not make us feel very generous." Nadine crossed her arms.

Esme sighed. "Boys, can you please put your weapons away?" She looked at Joshua. "Please?"

Joshua tried never to deny his mother's requests, if only to make up for her marriage to Harland. He knew his father had repeatedly cheated on his mother. He never understood it. This, however, was not his decision. He had to allow Dean as The Guardian-elect to make the decision in regards to his safety. If it came down to it, he would sacrifice himself for his mother but could not ask Dean to do the same.

"Fine. We'll put them away, but we better be walking out with Caleb's cure." Dean tucked the gun in the back of his jeans. Joshua did the same. It was better for easy access.

"I think we should speak about the antidote," Esme stated as she raised her arms and threw something in the air. As the particles fell, she brought her wand up. They burned bright, forming a circle around them until landing in the grass and glowing a bright yellow. "No one leaves until we have an agreement."

"How come you never do that?" Dean commented. "I like her style."

"Light shows cost extra." Joshua limited using his knowledge around the members of The Brotherhood. It had always been frowned upon by his father. Esme had created a barrier that would cause discomfort if crossed, but it did provide the necessary level of seriousness.

Nadine gave a twisted smile. "Such a lack of trust. However, we are willing to forgive Jocelyn for her past acts, no longer call you abominations."

"Oh, goody. It was weighing on me," Joshua replied, looking at his mother. He hadn't realized they were called abominations; it was graver than being shunned.

"That's not what we're here for. Your witch did something to my friend. I want you to fix it," Dean stated.

"We kindly granted this meeting because of the past connection with Jocelyn. It is a monumental step in the right direction." She lifted a hand to silence Dean. "As for your friend, Agatha cast that spell without the permission of the coven. This is not something we wish to get involved with at this time."

"At this time?!" Dean yelled. "That's the wrong answer!" His hand moved towards his weapon.

Esme interrupted, placing a hand on Dean's arm. "She was the representative you sent to the meeting. You had to have some idea she was planning something. Even working with Griffin Porter."

"Accusations, cousin?"

"A possibility," Esme retorted.

Joshua noticed Dean seemed to calm down. He didn't shake off Esme's hand. "I get it. You think he's going to be the winning side? Think again."

Nadine cocked her head to one side, smiling. "We are autonomous. For us, there is no winning side, so to speak."

"That isn't the same as neutral," Joshua added. He didn't know about the summit, but both sides were vying for the help of the witches. It put them in an enviable position, giving them more power where once they were hunted.

Dean seemed to understand. He wasn't going to entertain Nadine any longer. "Then you just need to answer one question: do you have the antidote?"

"Yes." Nadine nodded.

"What do you want in return?" Joshua asked because they were down to the basics instead of the subterfuge.

"Your oath to the coven," Nadine said directly to Joshua.

"No," Esme stated, and this time it was Dean who put a hand on her arm.

"My oath is to The Brotherhood," Joshua explained as his stomach knotted. They had truly walked into a trap.

"We understand. Those, however, are the terms. We will allow you to serve both." Nadine gestured to Dean with an open palm.

"I will swear an oath."

"Mother." Pride welled in his chest at his mother's willing sacrifice, so unlike what his father's reaction would be if the situation was reversed.

"Esme, cousin, it's not enough — although required." Nadine scuffed her foot in the grass, kicking up some dirt which fed the burning circle, causing it to flame up a purple color.

"Was this part of the plan?" Joshua asked, trying to deduce how it had all worked against his mother and himself.

"No, it was an opportunity. Agatha acted alone in her deal with Griffin. Her failure and your need, however. . . it was an opportunity. You may find it reassuring; we've changed for the better. But ask your grandmother. She will tell you the good stories of her family."

"Was that before or after you asked her to spy on her husband? That sounds like some fun times." Dean's hands were fisted by his side.

"As I have explained, we have changed. No need for you to worry that secrets will fall into the wrong hands."

"Oh, I'll worry because I don't trust you," Dean retorted with a growl. "And when I worry, well . . . Then you have a cause to worry, too."

"It is not your trust we seek." Nadine turned her head. "Joshua, your answer?"

This was the only way to save Caleb. He couldn't break down the compound now and still piece together a solution since too much time had been lost. He looked up and closed his eyes. He had separated from his father, no longer walking the line between his parents. Finally, he was fully committed to one side, and now this, pulling him in two different directions again. He tried to keep the defeat out of his voice as he demanded, "This will not bind my children. When I die, so does the obligation."

"Unless your children come to us willingly," Nadine answered.

"Agreed."

Nadine pointed to the yellow circle. "Esme, can you remove the barrier please? Robert needs to enter the circle to complete your initiation into the coven."

Dean put his arm out to stop Esme. "And once that is done, you will give us what we want?"

"Yes."

Dean dropped his arm, allowing Esme go into her satchel and pull out some other herbs. She sprinkled them over a one foot section; the yellow circle flickered and died out. The occupants of the circle spaced out a little more, Joshua, too, finding it a bit confining.

"Thank you," a man said as he came forward with a bow to Esme.

"You stay away from her," Dean said, coming to stand next to Esme.

Joshua would have been amused, Dean protecting Esme from another man. However, his smirk was short lived as Robert blew on the candle he was holding to excite the flame, then drew out a small dagger over it. "Are you willing to carry the mark?" he asked.

"Don't touch her." Joshua stepped to the side so he was between Robert and his mother. "She's already agreed. I'll carry it for both of us."

Robert looked over at Nadine.

"Whoa — what's with the branding?" Dean called out.

Nadine pointed the silver rings. "They are like your bands, worn to show honor and loyalty."

"But this isn't painful." Dean lifted his hand, muttering under his breath enough for only Joshua to hear, "So to speak."

"And neither is this." Nadine pulled up her sleeve to show the mark on her forearm. "I promise, there is no pain, and it will be allowed that Joshua can carry the mark, unless Esme changes her mind."

"She won't," Joshua answered. Robert came forward with the blade, emitting a blue light. "Wait, here." Sawyer lifted his sweatshirt and t-shirt exposing an area high on his rib cage.

"Hidden?" Robert frowned.

"Yes." Joshua swallowed, seeing the lifted pattern that was on the side of the dagger about one inch in size.

"Very well." Robert placed the blade against the spot indicated.

It didn't hurt, more of a cooling sensation. After a minute Robert lifted the blade and revealed the black puckered spot. Adorning his otherwise scarless skin was a pentagram with five dots surrounded by a circle. Each coven had its own symbol, like a flag. He studied it for a moment before feeling his mother's hands over his, pulling down the shirt. She looked at him with tears in her eyes.

"It's fine," he whispered.

"You got what you wanted. Where's what we wanted?" Dean stated. The gun was in his hand now, resting at his side but still at the ready. Joshua appreciated the act and the concern it showed, but also knew this was more about Caleb and his cure.

Nadine pulled a vile from her pocket and handed it to Joshua, who shined his flashlight on it. This red liquid had cost him some semblance of freedom. It had better be the real deal. He wasn't leaving until he was positive it was. "No directions on what we do with this?"

"Come now, I know you're intelligent. You understand the principal," Nadine stated with a smile.

Joshua frowned. He was familiar with the concept but found it distasteful.

"Are we free to leave?" Esme asked. "You've wasted enough time for your games, Nadine."

"Yes, Robert will escort you. There is a quicker way back to your car. And cousin, you will find your car returned to your home. No need to worry. We take care of our own."


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Offerings and Takings

By: Tidia

Beta: That Girl Six

Disclaimer: I surely do not own Supernatural, and Ridley C. James created the Brotherhood universe

Notes: Thank you for the wonderful reviews. I hope I answered all. It has been a busy week so I appreciate the patience. Real life and self created issues are an occasional pain in the neck. Anyway, don't forget that we still have not caught up to the show in our timeline BUT we are hard at work on our writing!

Part 7

Sam and Mackland sat on opposite ends of the bed as they kept watch, their cell phones at Caleb's feet. Mac checked his pulse every fifteen minutes, commenting at the deep sleep his son was in, but nothing more. Concern was etched on his face. Sam was just as worried.

They hadn't heard from Dean and Joshua yet; Sam had hoped his brother would check in at regular intervals, but something or someone was not making that possible. Sam's nervousness heightened, making him hyperaware that for at least the twentieth time Mac's cell phone glowed and vibrated. The doctor ignored it.

"Your cellphone is vibrating—a lot," Sam said, finally deciding to bring it to Mac's attention.

"Ignore it unless it is Dean or Joshua. This is more important."

"I can sit with him; hold his hand, if you want." Sam thought Mac needed a break to at least stretch his legs. However he didn't want to interfere with the father and son relationship, especially considering the strain it had been under. Neither he nor Dean would ever be a substitute for Mac.

"What I want is no more bedside vigils. What I want is not to see my son like this, not to see you like this or Dean." The doctor turned so he was looking at Sam, unshed tears in his eyes. "Not to get phone calls about your death, Dean's deal and Caleb being hurt."

"I don't want that either," Sam whispered, being affected by his emotions of picturing his brother dealing with his death, so unable to cope that he made a deal. Technically, Sam wasn't supposed to be there, but Dean had used their otherworldly knowledge to do the impossible. Since Sam was here, then he had to make a difference in the war.

"Samuel, I am glad you are here. When I see the three of you together, alive, well, making jokes that are in poor taste —" Mackland smirked. "That's more my son and Dean—but it gives me strength to see the best in The Brotherhood."

"It's hard to see anything clearly anymore." Sam was testing so many boundaries, moral and earthly, so Dean could live, The Brotherhood and The Triad continue.

"I don't think we'll get clarity until we see Dean through this latest trial. After that, anything else will pale in comparison."

"Who keeps calling you?"

"It's more than likely Brotherhood business." At Sam's questioning brow, Mac sighed. "I rarely get phone calls about someone needing help with locating a missing child or from my office concerning research."

"Something to look forward to?"

"I do the job of three men. The Guardian usually does most of the work. When Jim was alive. . ." Mac's breath hitched in a sigh of wistfulness for the past.

Sam recalled the way it used to be with Mac helping find missing people and working as a neurosurgeon. He had almost seemed bigger than life, but now his job as The Scholar seemed bigger than him.

Mac gave Sam a small smile, diverting some attention from Caleb but still hovering over his son. "Your Triad will be different. You have Caleb and your brother."

Sam pictured it in his mind. It was an image that had to come true. Dean would not die, couldn't if they were all going to take their rightful places. When he'd first been officially told about their futures, he had been so angry, but now he wanted nothing more than to see the plans of their fathers to come to fruition. "My brother will be a great Guardian."

"Yes, he will."

"I didn't realize you didn't help the police anymore," Sam commented, wanting to create some sort of conversation that had nothing to do with deals and Triads to make the time go by faster.

"I don't have the opportunity anymore, just like my interest in research is being limited. And there is some work being done in Russia which Naomi is working on under different parameters that. . .Sorry about the research talk." The doctor waved a hand in the air.

Sam smiled, admiring Mac's excitement for his work. "That's okay."

"You have to understand that my psychic abilities are different than yours. I can't enter someone's mind, although it is times like these that I wish I could. The telekinesis is somewhat useful, but the psychometry, being able to touch an object and save a person, is truly something I miss." Ames glanced at his son.

"Spoken like a true doctor." Sam decided he wanted to go into unfamiliar ground, a discussion about the future. "So when you retire, what will happen?"

Mackland looked up, staring straight into Sam's eyes. "I would like for you to continue your education."

"I don't know." Sam shook his head. That part of his life was over; he couldn't imagine the collegiate life without Jessica. He didn't want to.

"You can live with your brother at the farm, if that is what you want. Transfer to a school nearby," Mackland stated, not as suggestions but as statements of facts.

It sounded like he had been planning this for awhile. Sam played along, daring to believe in the possibilities. "Dean would like that, and it would make Caleb's job easier."

"I'll still be around, bridging the gap."

It was a normal conversation, a mentor providing guidance to a charge. It wasn't part of their reality. "It's something to think about. It's just hard to think about the future when there doesn't look like there will be much of a future." Sam hated that he had turned the conversation with Caleb lying so still.

"There will be a future. There always is." Mac wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "Maybe this is a good time for you to have an internship as The Scholar?"

"Or we could let them go to voicemail." Sam glanced at the phone with trepidation. The phone vibrated again, this time with a name shining in the box. Sam grinned. It was Mac's future, or at least that is what he and Dean thought would happen, no matter Caleb or Joshua's opinion. "Esme's calling. I think that's one you want to answer."

Mackland gestured for Sam to toss him the phone. His face softened as he placed the phone to his ear. Esme was the person who could make things a little better for the doctor. Jess had done that for him. "Esme? What? Are they all right? What happened?"

Sam leaned forward on his chair. "Dean? Did something happen?"

Mackland shook his head, making Sam feel relieved that Dean had not been injured. Mac placed a hand on Caleb's forehead. "Tell Dean he did momentarily and now seems to be in a deep sleep. Joshua did some sort of binding spell, but I don't know if that's enough…"

The doctor nodded again, removing his hand from Caleb. "I'll see you soon then." Mac shut the phone off, placing it on the nightstand instead of the bed. "They have the cure, and they're coming back."

Sam returned the smile. He squeezed Caleb's arm. "Esme's with Dean and Josh?" Joshua hadn't mentioned his mother. He assumed she was advising him via phone.

Mackland seemed just as confused. "Yes, she met up with them, and they have the cure. That's all that matters." The doctor put his hand on the top of Caleb's head.

Sam glanced at his watch, marking the time. Maybe the future was looking better.

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They were silent with Robert in their presence. Dean had his own thoughts after witnessing what had happened with the coven. It had been out of his control. Only the end result mattered. Caleb had to stay alive so Dean could go to Hell if need be and Sammy would still have someone watching over him. If he had to sacrifice Joshua along the way, so be it. Esme was safe with Mackland. He had to worry about his own.

No one waved goodbye to Robert as he melted back into the woods. In the Impala, Joshua gave up his passenger seat to his mother and parked himself sullenly in the backseat.

Dean cleared his throat. "Back there, you did good."

Joshua rested his head against the backseat, eyes closed, but he replied, "Oh, joy. I have to practically go to Hell to get your begrudging respect."

Dean didn't answer. Dealing with the coven couldn't compare to real Hell.

"Are you all right, Joshua?" Esme broke into the awkward silence that had descended once more.

"Yes, Mother."

"The mark?" She turned in her seat to look at her son.

"Doesn't hurt."

Silence ensued once more. Dean's fingers were edging towards the radio in nervousness.

"I should call Mackland, tell him we are in route," Esme stated.

She didn't wait for anyone's approval as she pulled her cellphone out and dialed the number. "Mackland, I'm with the boys and we have the counterspell."

"How's Caleb? Did he wake up?" Dean interrupted the phone call. He didn't care if he was being rude; Caleb was the reason they were here.

Esme smiled at Dean. "He did." She was listening again. "Joshua's binding will hold until we get there." She was quiet again, nodding her head. "See you soon."

Dean heard every exaggerated noise being made as Esme put her phone away into her purse. Joshua was moving around in the backseat, squeaking against the leather. Dean was having difficulty dealing with the quietness.

"You shouldn't have come, Mother."

Dean winced. Joshua was the only one who had a mom. Dean wanted to treat her with kid gloves. However, this time, painful as it was, he had to agree with Sawyer. "He's right. You shouldn't have come. It was dangerous and you could have jeopardized everything." He looked over, hoping he hadn't hurt her feelings. It was nice having a motherly figure around even if it was just a concept. It wasn't like she could replace his mother, no one could.

She tilted her head and played with the edge of the scarf she had around her neck. "Yes, I see that now. At the time it seemed in everyone's best interest that I attend."

Dean didn't press, but she had kept it a secret from her son, and probably Mackland, if he had to guess. "I guess what's important is that Caleb's going to be fine—right?"

"He will be fine. I can promise you that."

"Thanks to you and Josh." Dean hadn't participated in the bargaining. He had felt useless, a position he hated. It was also uncomfortable to leave everything up to Sawyer—a person he barely tolerated.

"Got stuck in your throat, didn't it?"

"Joshua."

Dean had to admit he enjoyed Joshua being reprimanded and wanted to encourage it. "I like having your mom around, and not because she is hot—"

"Dean!"

"Thank you!"

"Mother!"

"But because she keeps you in line." Dean grinned. This was too easy, and as a bonus, he had even flirted with Esme. Mac never needed to know.

Esme covered her mouth, but a chuckle escaped. It was a moment of frivolity that was needed. She sobered quickly, turning the conversation yet again after Dean's orchestrated respite. "Really, it was Joshua the coven was more interested in, and I placed him in an unenviable position."

"Mother, this is a conversation for another time."

He agreed with Joshua again, a strange occurrence, but he had to defer to Sawyer when it came to his mother-son knew best. It was a private matter. Dean again felt his fingers traveling towards the radio. He was in an awkward position of being a stranger in a family situation.

"No, this is something you should both hear." Dean felt her staring at him. He glanced over to show he was listening, however uncomfortable. "Parents will do anything for their children. It's a common thread among all parents, and when another person's child is threatened, I have to do anything within my power to help. Every mother's child should be safe. I know your father felt the same."

"Yeah, he did." Dean licked his lips. Usually people were disappointed in John's parenting skills, but Esme understood his father was a good father at a basic level.

"After everyone left Gideon's funeral, I stayed with his mother, Sandra. She's a good friend. We grew up together."

"Mother . . . "

Dean glanced out the window. Gideon had died saving him; saving the person he believed was going to be the next Guardian. Mostly, he felt guilty. Gideon's death had more repercussions than he thought his own would. Gideon had a complete family unit and others that cared for him. Dean's heart constricted painfully at reliving that moment that had gone so wrong. He was tired of things going wrong. He flinched, but no one noticed.

"Sandra and I know it's our fault, our legacy. We did this. Because of who you were born to, we raised you for this. We know what's out there and set our children on a path, thinking The Brotherhood could protect them. I taught you about crafting to protect you. But we were wrong. I _wanted_ to help. I suggested the summit to Mackland as a way to have the coven on the side of The Brotherhood, against the demons." Esme took a deep breath. "I am so sorry."

Dean knew the apology wasn't for him. He tried to give the two of them privacy by humming a tune to himself.

"What's done is done," Joshua sighed. "I'd rather that you not be alone in the coven."

Esme sniffed, stretching her hand back to her son. At that act, the tension seemed to have dissipated. Esme cleared her throat, but her voice was still husky with emotion. "I am surprised the radio isn't on. Mackland has spoken of your fondness for music."

Joshua groaned, "Don't encourage him."

Dean snorted, returning to his new favorite sport of teasing Josh while with Esme. "How come you're so nice and he's not?"

The resulting frown on Esme's face in the limited light was all the answer Dean needed. It was true— mothers only believed the best about their children.

"Joshua, what impression have you given to Dean?"

"Not a good one." Dean shook his head in mock seriousness.

"Are you done?" Joshua retorted. His tone softened when speaking to his mother. "It's not my fault. They don't include me in their little club, and they instigate me."

"Joshua, you are beyond this childishness."

"He isn't," Dean interjected when Joshua was rendered speechless. "He makes a lot of snide comments."

"Did I raise you to make snide comments?"

"No."

Esme sighed, "I expect better. Can you do that for me?

"Yes."

Dean could not suppress the snort of laughter. He felt Joshua's eyes burring into his back.

"Dean, I like you, but stop instigating my son." Esme had her arms crossed.

"Yes, Ma'am," Dean said dutifully. He couldn't wait to tell Caleb and Sam how he had gotten Josh in trouble.


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Offerings & Takings

Title: Offerings & Takings

By: Tidia

Beta: That Girl Six

Disclaimer: See part 1

Notes: I try not to get personal, but am going to ask for forgiveness and prayers. I will not be answering reviews on this chapter. I am posting it because I am awake, and probably will not sleep tonight since just as I think I will stop crying, I start all over again. My grandmother, after spending a day at the beach with her family is now in the hospital. I ask for prayers for her to have peace. Thank you in advance.

Part 8

Joshua held the vial in the palm of his hand. It wasn't black magic. At least the coven stayed on the alchemy side of crafting, but it had taken him down the wrong path all the same. He slipped it into his messenger bag, unwilling to contemplate it further as the knot in his stomach grew.

His mother was speaking to Dean, understanding his pensive mood. She had fallen for his devil may care charm. Joshua concluded it was that trait that had attracted her to Harland Sawyer before he turned into a womanizer. Joshua tried to tune into the conversation happening in the front seat as a distraction. He didn't want to think of his father — the man he would never please but somehow would always try to — or the coven. His life was always about dichotomy.

Dean was talking about the farm. "I would sit on the steps and listen as they talked. I don't remember much about what they said— I just remember that Dad usually started in on Mac, but they'd end up ganging up on Pastor Jim. There would be a lot of laughing."

Whatever people had thought of the individual members of the former Triad, they had had camaraderie. The next Triad was the same, even Griffin, Harland and Silas, along with Gideon, Ethan and Elijah. Joshua was always the outsider. "I'm surprised Caleb never caught you."

"He did a few times." Dean smiled fondly. "Wound up sitting next to me."

Joshua had been a witness to many happy moments between Dean and Caleb. It was those thoughts that were more than likely helping the younger hunter tone down his anxiousness. "Of course—partners in crime," Joshua retorted. "But that's more like you and your brother."

"Snide comment. Sorry, Esme."

"Hard habit to break." It showed his jealousy. Joshua waited for his mother's reprimand. It never came, making him feel transparent. His mother pitied him. Joshua cleared his throat. "Are we almost there?"

Almost there was another thirty minutes of stilted conversation. Dean led the way when they reached the motel. Joshua gave a curt nod to Mackland; his mother went to the doctor with one arm outstretched. She squeezed Mackland's hand when she reached him. It was an incredibly personal gesture that spoke of their relationship. Joshua felt uncomfortable.

"What happened?" Sam greeted his brother.

"We'll talk about it later. First things first, we need to fix Caleb." Dean pointed at Joshua then to Caleb.

Joshua went to check the binding he had placed on Caleb. He examined the hand, then placed a hand on Reaves's chest.

"Respiration is normal; pulse is slow but steady," Mackland stated, Esme still by his side even while his sole focus was on his son.

"That's good," Joshua said with a nod. He removed the messenger bag, taking the red vial out. "I think it would be better if you would wait in another room." He didn't want any of them to see him desecrate the body, especially his mother.

"Hell no," Dean answered.

"I'd rather stay and monitor Caleb," Mackland added. "By staying, will we have an effect on what you are about to do?"

Joshua couldn't lie. "No, not really." He looked at his mother and swallowed. "I'd prefer it if you could go, Mother."

"I plan to help you." She took up position by Caleb's bed to show she was determined.

Joshua sighed, concentrated on the work at hand, realizing he had lost the battle. "I need a glass filled with water."

Sam volunteered to be the assistant, going into the bathroom and returning with the water. Joshua tapped out part of the powder into the water, watching as it dissolved. With a grimace, he forced opened Agatha's mouth, pouring the substance in while he massaged her throat, mimicking a swallowing reflex.

"That's it?" Sam asked.

"I need to wait," he answered. It was strange to do crafting with such an intense audience, especially when he tried so hard to keep those talents separate from them.

"How long?" Thankfully, Mackland was supporting him, unlike the usual suspicion his crafting brought about from the physician. "An extended release tablet can take up to seven hours to work fully."

"This will be only about ten minutes," Joshua explained, noticing they were all near Caleb who remained slack and unaware so many people cared about him. Even his relationship with Reaves had improved over time. There was the occasional phone call, discussion of Brotherhood business which didn't involve a snarky tone. However, there were still created boundaries they did not cross.

He glanced at his watch, seeing the minutes tick.

"What comes next?" Sam broke through the silence, helping to pass the time a little faster.

"The idea is that she is going to give back what she took from Caleb. This is the conduit that makes that happen, undoes the spell." Joshua waited for further questions but none were forthcoming. He found the knife he needed, a copper blade. It needed to be a pure metal; tools of crafting were just as important as the ingredients. Materials from the elemental table were the best to work with, again showing there was more of a scientific connection than a magical one. He had excelled in chemistry, too.

He picked up Agatha's slack arm. Her arm felt warm even though she had been dead for hours and her body only moments before had been cold. It had been the potion. He wished he could study it, but it would all be used. He dragged the blade across her forearm. Blood dripped out; he caught it in the vial, watching as the powder mixed with the blood. Once filled, he placed the stopper on it, shaking it to ensure it was well-blended.

"Are you ready?" He passed his mother the mixture.

Esme nodded. She took off Caleb's socks, anointing his feet in calligraphy, using the mixture to do so. "These runes are like the ones on the wall." His mother was always a teacher, taking an opportunity to explain the craft so it was accepted rather than distrusted. She shifted Caleb's hands so they were facing up, again marking them. She repeated the action on his throat, under his nose and on his forehead, leaving him tattooed with symbols.

Without being asked, Sam handed her a towel. Joshua shook his head at the reaction Esme got from the Winchesters. They wanted to please her.

Joshua took out his ceremonial bowl made of a shining nickel. He placed blessed thistle, asafoetida, chewing john, and echinacea inside, which once together lit up to a blue colored flame. He rested the copper blade on top.

Going into his bag once more as an afterthought, he found the sage, then crumpled the fragrant leaves over Agatha's body.

"I don't think that will help," Esme said, placing her hand on his arm.

"It'll make me feel better." Sage was used to cast off negativity. Joshua was agnostic—believing there was something out there, but not so organized. Yet some sage could help her to cross over to a better place instead of the hell that she had been wished into by the people in the motel room. He knew what it was like to be vilified for one act, and as far as he knew, Agatha had steadily led her coven for decades.

"This is about making Caleb feel better," Dean growled.

Joshua looked over his shoulder to see Mac placing a hand on Dean's arm, reining in the Guardian-elect. Regaining his concentration, Joshua pulled up Agatha's long sleeve, covering her arm. Not finding what he was searching for, he unbuttoned her shirt, feeling nauseated that he was violating an elderly woman in some way. Above her breast he found the mark, the same one he'd had burned into him a few hours before.

The blade was white hot, the hilt cool. He placed the flat side of the blade on the mark, smelled the burning flesh and heard the disgusting sizzle. He was glad his back was toward the other occupants in the room. True, this was righting a wrong, but it was violent. It was punishment. It was a reminder for Joshua and Esme, leaving no doubt of what would happen to them if they should become traitors.

Agatha's body started to crack, gaping gray holes absorbing her skin until she was nothing but dust in the form of a body on the bedspread. "They cursed her," Joshua said to no one as Caleb took in a deep gulp of air and sat up in bed.

"Help!" Caleb shouted as he scampered slightly away from those gathered around the bed.

Mac placed a restraining hand on his son. "It's okay, Caleb. It's okay. You're fine."

It seemed to soothe the other hunter; he was losing the wild-eyed look.

"Take in a few breaths, Damien."

Joshua watched as he cleaned up, wiping his blade before putting out the fire in the ceremonial bowl. He spread the ashes over the remnants of Agatha Hennings. He opened his bag, taking out the leather pouch that held his blades, placing the copper in its place. He cleaned the bowl with a cloth before it went back into his bag.

Caleb had yet to say anything, working on Dean's suggestion of breathing in a slow, shallow manner. Finally, he cleared his throat. "Who's going to fill me in?"

There was immediate chuckling of relief. Joshua remained in the background. His mother had retreated into the bathroom but returned to hand a towel to Caleb. She gestured to the markings. "I think you should clean up a bit."

"Esme, what are you doing here?" He accepted the towel, but seemed unsure of what to do with it. "Ahh, not that it's a bad thing or anything, just unexpected."

"He thinks he's so Rico Suave." Dean elbowed his brother. "Well, Sleeping Beauty. . . "

"She had to kiss me?" Caleb looked at his father, who still had an arm on his son. "You know, this writing is kinda kinky." Caleb put his hand up to look at the markings. "Esme, is there something you want to tell my father?"

"Caleb—" Mackland warned as Esme shook her head with a smile.

Reaves ignored his father but acknowledged Joshua. "And Josh should know, too."

Caleb's sarcastic humor had returned, boding a speedy recovery. Joshua tried not to get insulted by the familiar way they were speaking to his mother. Esme was a lady, not one of their one night stands. His mother didn't seem upset, so he would allow her reaction to guide him, figuring out it was more to fluster Mac and himself than to offend his mother. Joshua rolled his eyes as he finished rolling the sheet of the ashes into a makeshift urn. "She needs to be buried under a pine tree." Pine trees were known for their peaceful properties.

"Going out in the trash would be more fitting," Dean grumbled.

"Aggy?" Caleb had scooted back towards the headboard. Propped up, he looked over to the other bed.

"Yep," Dean answered.

"So how did this all happen? I remember walking to the door, waking up and talking to you guys a bit, but some details?" Caleb asked as he wiped the symbols off his feet.

Joshua wavered in his silence. He was on unsure footing with these men. It was better to see what Dean answered so that he could add on his explanation only if necessary.

"You need to thank Joshua and Esme. They were able to get the antidote from the coven," Mackland explained, smiling at Joshua's mother.

"A little more complicated than that—Josh and Esme had to join their club," Dean interjected, giving a curt nod to Joshua.

Joshua watched the reactions of the group. Mackland stepped closer to Esme, his eyes closing briefly with a heavy intake of breath. Sam's face crumpled in an uncomfortable wince of sympathy.

Caleb was the first to speak. "I'm sorry. I know you never were supposed to swear allegiance to a coven. None of us wanted to put you in that position."

"It was a worthy cause," Esme said with a small smile.

Joshua was impressed Caleb remembered Joshua telling him about why they were not connected to a coven. Feeling uncomfortable, Joshua tried to divert attention. "Try not to let it happen again."

"What does it mean for you to swear an oath to them?" Sam asked, treating it at as a learning experience.

Joshua recalled how, even as a child, Sam wanted an explanation for everything. He supposed it was an important trait of The Scholar. "Like the National Guard, two weeks a year, one weekend a month," Joshua quipped. He didn't want to think about what was going to be asked in the near future.

"Joshua," Esme scolded him.

Joshua sighed. "What do you wish me to tell them?" There was a lot he could surmise, leading to him possibly being a threat to The Brotherhood, which, after the sins of his father against the order, was the last thing he wanted.

"If you ignore them, then what?" Caleb had wiped all the marks and tossed the towel at the end of the bed.

Joshua looked at his mother. It could never come to that; they wouldn't suffer the same fate as Agatha. Joshua understood the coven's message. He would always protect his mother.

"Esme?" Mackland prompted.

"We're cursed." She picked up the towel at the end of the bed, folding it neatly.

"Oh," Mackland replied, an irate stare falling to Agatha's remains.

"It's not all bad." She adjusted the corners of the towel.

"This must be where Josh got his PR skills," Caleb stated from the bed.

Esme walked into the bathroom but continued explaining, "The coven can be a strong ally. Perhaps we can negotiate a truce with The Brotherhood." She returned, coming to stand next to Joshua. "We will stand against Griffin Porter."

"Mother, don't be naïve."

"Do not speak to your mother that way," Mackland demanded.

Joshua wiped down his mouth, temper flaring at the man who defended his mother as if her son was a threat, or worse, not up for the job. "Mackland, you have no idea. None of you do. Mother, I'm sorry." Joshua shook his head. "We are talking about two loyalties: one to The Brotherhood and another to our coven."

"'Our' coven?" Dean crossed his arms.

Joshua ignored him, ignoring the mistake he had made. "While my mother doesn't wear a ring, her connections to The Brotherhood run deep. Do you know the position that she has been placed in? It'll be a very thin line."

The men stared at Esme. She placed her hands on her hips. "I can take care myself."

"What about you, Joshua?"

Joshua wondered if it was Mackland being concerned about another person or Mackland as The Scholar being concerned about a breach in security. "Me?" Joshua snorted. "I had the benefit of learning not only from my mother and grandmother but also Buzz, Missouri, and what I learned from Jim's library. They'll want a piece of that to start."

"To start?" Sam rubbed the back of his neck and shared a look with Mackland. The Scholar-to-be and the current Scholar having the same question.

"They stand together—knowledge of one, knowledge of all." He entwined his hands. Then another thought came to him. "Grandmother is not going to be happy."

Esme was looking up at her son. He was significantly taller than her, inheriting his height from his father. She squeezed his arm. "I'll speak to her. She'll understand."

He placed his hand on top then let it drop. "Then of course the fact that I am Advisor to the Triad."

"You don't have a counterpart," Mackland stated, and Joshua didn't know if he should be insulted. He took pride that no one could replace him, no matter which Triad was put into power, he was still the Advisor, Mackland had told him after the deaths of Jim and John.

"Well that was an oversight," Dean quipped with a roll of his eyes, then shrugged his shoulders to soften the barb.

Joshua appreciated it. It was late or early; and he should have paid for a room, but he needed distance from this life. He was feeling like he needed to be on his own. He glanced at Sam Winchester, who had tried to escape the hunting life; he could have told him it was not possible. "Well, I walked out on a meeting and I need to get back." He hitched his bag on his shoulder. He directed his attention at Caleb. "You should feel better in a matter of hours." He then turned to his mother. "I trust you will find your way back?"

"Yes, but I'll walk you to your car." She had left her hand on his arm. She tucked it the crook of his elbow. "I'd like to talk to you."

He opened the door for his mother, allowing her to exit first. He turned around to say his goodbyes to the other men. "Don't forget to take those marks off the wall." A member of The Brotherhood would come and clean up. They were nothing if not efficient.

"Josh, thanks." Caleb pointed at him.

Joshua lifted his hand. "Just don't be calling me for a while." He backed away, then regained some of his composure. "Just to let you know: Drew will expect, at minimum, a lunch at a very public place and for you to be dressed in a suit." He shut the door with smile.


	9. Chapter 9

Title: Offerings and Takings

By: Tidia

Beta: Household Six

Disclaimer: I surely do not own Supernatural, and Ridley C. James created the Brotherhood universe

Notes: This is the final chapter. As many of you know it has been a difficult two weeks. My grandmother passed away and is sorely missed. I appreciated the kind notes and reviews that came during this trying time. I am sure there was something about this story that I wanted to say, but I totally forgot what it is.

Part 9

Dean would have to prod Caleb to make the lunch date sooner rather than later. He wanted to be present so he could tease his friend about being eye candy for Joshua's assistant. For now, he was just going to bask in the camaraderie and family. "So Mac, are you going to make an honest woman of Esme?"

"What?" Mackland was startled. He had closed his phone after calling someone in The Brotherhood clean up department. Dean didn't even know it existed; then of course, there was a great deal about The Brotherhood that was still a mystery. There was a lot he wasn't going to get the chance to know, but he didn't miss the way his brother was soaking up every revealed tidbit. Sammy would have to learn for them both.

"It would be nice to have a wedding in the family," Sam picked up where his brother had left off.

Dean saw Caleb frown. "Dad, really, is this thing with the coven going to be a problem?"

Dean covered his grin as his friend had willfully changed the subject.

"I trust Esme's discretion. It will be fine." Dean recognized the tone; it was Mac trying to convince himself.

"And Joshua?" Sam asked, gesturing to the other bed where Agatha was wrapped up in a sheet, waiting for pick up to be planted under a pine tree. Dean had watched Joshua; he had been uncomfortable with what he had done to Agatha Hennings.

Mackland rubbed his chin. "He's always had divided loyalties—his mother and father, Griffin and Jim. This is no different."

"Griffin and Jim?" Dean snorted. "No contest — Jim was the man." That fact had been proven over and over again.

"For you, Caleb and Sam — he spoiled you." Mac smiled, his eyes looked past them until he returned to the present. "It wasn't the same with other hunters of your generation. You saw how cordial Griffin was to Joshua."

Mac was referring to the meeting at the Boonedocks. Joshua had been speaking to Griffin, and it had looked like an amicable conversation. That particular memory had Dean bristling again. Any momentary sympathy he'd had for Joshua was stuffed back down where it belonged.

"How about getting them out of the deal?" Caleb asked, always full of hope of finding a way out.

Dean shook his head. "There are one too many of those around here, don't you think? We should concentrate on the one with the expiration date." He pointed to himself. "Plus, I was there—I may not be a crack legal mind, but it seems airtight."

Dean realized his mistake in being flippant. Sam gave a worried glanced at Caleb.

Caleb, as usual, had to find something to hold on to. "Maybe they can help us get you out of your deal."

"Now who's into the PR business?" Dean smirked.

"Moving on," Sam said, his facing showing some relief.

Dean couldn't help or know what they were doing because then he would jeopardize Sam. Today didn't feel like the day to be risking anyone or anything.

The attention returned to Caleb, who was trying to stifle a yawn. "So what did I miss? What was the coven like?"

Dean rubbed his hands together. There was so much to tell, especially about Josh being put down by Esme. He started with the witches. "It was like _Red Dawn_. They were like the Wolverines."

"Cheesy 80's movie," Sam commented, looking at Mac.

Dean rolled his eyes. Mackland deviated from pop culture — it was what they always teased him about. They used to joke with Pastor Jim about being too straight-laced. It led to good memories.

"Well, at least it isn't _The Godfather_," Mac commented with a grin.

Dean felt secretly Mac must have seen the Mafia movie, if only to satiate his curiosity. "It's better. If we're taken over by Russia, we'd be prepared by watching that movie. Could so happen," Dean stated, giving the idea more thought that the movie could be a training video for hunters.

"Not," Sam replied with a shake of his head.

"First movie to be rated PG-13. That says something," Caleb defended the movie.

"I could see about renting it. You hungry? I think we could all use some food. There was a 24 hour diner down the street, plus the movie?" It was a bonding session too late in coming. Dean wondered why he got these ideas with less than one year to live.

"Sounds like a good idea. I'll go with you." Mackland pointed to the door.

Dean was surprised, and judging by Sam and Caleb's reaction, they were, too. Mackland didn't make food runs. "Don't trust me to bring back healthy food?"

"There's that."

"Why don't we just order from the take out menu and have it delivered?" Sam opened the nightstand, pulled out the menus and held them up.

"Said the runt with the brains," Caleb added. He tiled his head, studying his father. "You wanted to speak to Dean alone?"

Dean glanced back and forth between the two men. Whatever Mackland wanted to talk to him about, he wanted it to be away from Caleb and Sam.

"I did," Mackland affirmed with a sigh.

"Damn, you're starting this all up again!" Caleb pinched the bridge of his nose. "Did you know about Ruby and Bela, too? I thought we'd all agreed to no more secrets?"

Dean shook his head. Mackland was trying to give him some privacy. "Hey! Don't speak to your dad that way, especially after we just went through Hell with you." Dean made his decision, licking his lips. "Go ahead, Mac. I think I know what this is about."

Mackland looked at Caleb, then Sam. He went to his bag, pulling out an expandable folder. "I have a file that I have been carrying around for you on the off chance we would see each other soon. I did the research personally."

Dean accepted the file, tucking it under his arm without looking.

"Research on what?" Sam asked, stood, and strode over to his brother.

"Hell," Dean answered.

"Oh, Hell," Caleb said, as he moved from the bed.

"You wanted to know." Dean put his hand out. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Can't be laying around here. . . " Caleb shifted his legs.

"Yes, you can." Mackland put a hand on his son's shoulder. Caleb seemed to resist but then sighed and sat back. Mac let his hand linger just a personal moment longer before explaining to Dean, "I tabbed it according to religious beliefs, secular, mythology and personal accounts."

"Thanks." Dean took a look inside and saw the colored tabs, neatly marked.

"Can I read it?"

"Sammy, I don't think that's such a good idea. . ." For as long as possible, Dean would protect his brother. This would only add to Sam's imagination. In this case, he didn't need to have full disclosure.

"I think we can safely say that you are not the one to judge on what's a 'good idea.'" Sam pulled the folder from his brother's hand, and Dean allowed it, crossing his arms.

Sam didn't notice the vivid anger on Dean's face, too entrenched in examining the contents of the folder. He paced a few steps in front of the foot of the bed. "I want everyone to drop the attitude. I'm sick of it. We've got a year to plan — better than we had with Sam." Dean felt mention of his brother's sudden death would end the conversation.

Sam closed the folder. "Dean – I didn't mean – I never thought-" That was the problem. His brother fed him a guilt trip, but didn't recognize the one positive outcome of time together.

"Seven months," Caleb amended, interrupting Sam while plucking at the bedspread.

"My fuckin' seven months. I was **always** ready to give up my life for you and Sam." Even when he was a kid, Jim had to have seen his self-sacrificing nature. "The only surprise is that I have some time for the two of you to give me shit and go off on your own crusades." Dean grabbed his car keys from the top of the television.

"Where are you going?" Mackland asked, taking a step closer to him.

Dean searched for an excuse to leave. "To get some food." He opened the door but was called back. "I'll send Esme back in. I think we've done enough guy bonding."

"Deuce, wait. I'm sorry."

Dean would have kept on going if Caleb's voice hadn't cracked; reminding him they had almost lost Caleb not even an hour ago.

"It's my fault," Sam interrupted. "I didn't want to tell you about Ruby."

Dean crossed his arms, confused if the apologizes were about him or Sam and Caleb bonding.

"What about Bela?"

Dean closed the door, stepped back in. "She's a skank — not much to say about her. But next time we cross paths, I'll tell her to look you up."

"You do that. I don't know who's worse: her or Drew." Caleb laughed. Dean grinned in response, in his mind envisioning a smackdown between Bela and Drew. It was no contest. Drew had her KO'ed in ten seconds flat. "Are we good?"

"For now, but I'm watching you two." Dean brought his fingers to his eye then pointed at Caleb and Sam. "This is about respecting me, trusting me."

Caleb snickered, picking up a pillow and tossing it at Dean. "Dude, you know The Guardian isn't _The Godfather_, right?"

"And there, my son, is the reference I have been expecting. I believe Jim said the same thing to you on many, many occasions. . ." Jim's name wasn't said with Mac's usual pained tightness. It was a sign they were healing from those losses, readying for the next ones.

"I think I'm in the mood for Italian." Dean threw the pillow back. "What about you, Sam?"

"Your choice, man." He fanned out the menus. "Looks like this place delivers."

Dean snatched the red, green and white menu. "Should we get Esme's opinion?"

"We'll give her a few more minutes with Joshua. I can order for her."

"Honest woman, Mac." Dean chuckled. The fact that Mackland knew what to order for Esme showed how deep of a relationship it was. "Is this place going to be up to your standards?"

"I would rather we were in New York City, but in this case it is more about the company than food quality." He sat down next to his son again. Caleb shook his head.

"I'll take that." These months were about giving and taking. Dean would take what they were offering: the willingness to stand by his side through it all and give them some patience to find a way out for him.

The End...Stay tuned for Ridley's next story. . .


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